


The Unimaginable

by nonex



Category: Harry Potter fandom - Fandom, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: BAMF Minerva McGonagall, BAMF Penny Haywood, Biracial main character, Coming of Age, Dyslexic Barnaby Lee, Everyone can fight me over that, F/F, Family Deals With Stages of Grief, Gryffindor! Jacob, Ismelda writes poems, Jacob was an adventurer, Merula Has Issues, Merula Has a Heart, Multi, Nonbinary!Rowen Khanna, Not a Love Story, Ravenclaw!Rowan Khanna, Slytherin Pride, Slytherin!Main Character, Sort Of, What is Cannon?, World Building because those JamCity cowards did not give us enough, kind of, not entirely canon compliant, who am I kidding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2020-12-13 18:07:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 57,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21001925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonex/pseuds/nonex
Summary: Gone they said. No, Jacob disappeared. He was expelled, then fell off of the face of the Earth. Missing. Lost. Now a fading photograph in his mother's jewelry box.But the rumors did not fade. They grew, and stayed in a way that Jacob had not. The rumors swirling in the public consciousness of Magical Britain like hallway whispers.Quite unfortunate that Evie Rosier did not listen. Not when the rumors were published on the Daily Prophet until her father nearly sued Rita Skeeter for all she was worth. Not when family friends began sending mourning gifts that her mother transfigured into Jacob's favorite flowers in one smooth wave of the wand. No, Evie was too busy trying to piece it all together.Evie had always been good at puzzles, and she would not stop until all the pieces fit.So it was also rather unfortunate that Merula Snyde had turned out to be so puzzling.





	1. In The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Not really sure if I want to fit it all in one story or make it into a series. 
> 
> Tags will be updated as story progresses.
> 
> Update 28-Aug-2020: Will begin reworking through the story. Heavy editing to come. In case some scenes appear to have been changed or altered, it was probably a result of that.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie waits on her Hogwarts acceptance letter. Her parents try to cope with the fact of her going away, and Evie makes a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the end of the chapter, for Merula's introduction into le storie.

* * *

* * *

Evie looked up at her room's ceiling and thought about what was coming any day now. Jacob had enchanted her ceiling to show constellations when she was three years old. It changes every day, and years ago, she had sat on the plush rugs on the floor of her room and tried to name every one of them. Lepus, Crux, Cassiopeia. There was something thrilling about finding the patterns and knowing their names.

In reality, she can't recall a moment in time when she ever looked up to the ceiling of her room and didn't see stars, but her father assured her that Jacob bewitched it himself. Evie has photographs of that day, of him pointing excitedly at Serpens while she repeats the word with all the awe in her three year old heart, of her reaching out to the sky believing that she could grab a star. The photographs smile and point with bright eyes whenever she takes them out. On days when she feels particularly down she'll take one out and wave at the little girl tugging on her brother's shirt.

Be that as it may, today was not a day to be down. 

A knock on the door is the only warning she gets before Wonry, her house elf, walks in, "Mistress says Wonry to tell Miss Evanthia is wake up time", he says cheerfully. And Evie rolls her eyes at her government name, "will it kill you to call me Evie?"

"Miss Evanthia can't asks those things of Wonry. Wonry can't pos'bly call Miss Evanthia Evie. Only wizards call Miss Evanthia Evie", he breathes out all at once, pausing only when Evie sits up and holds a hand up to stop his rant. "How about... Eva?", she asks Wonky, she says slowly. Now that they are eye-level, she feels once again the small child in those photographs. And here is the same house elf that took the picture. 

Wonry looks ready to argue, but suddenly stops when he sees her smiling, that old twinkly, bright-eyed smile he hadn't seen in months, and just says, "Okay, Miss Evan- Wonry means Miss Eva". Wonry doesn't say it but he's glad that Evie is smiling like that today. If any day. She had that same "I know I'm about to win" look about her that she used to wear before tricking Jacob into stealing the candy hidden in the kitchen with her, as if he needed tricking for something like that.

Ever since Jacob disappeared, it's like a curtain came down and the whole family put away the pieces of themselves that had been interlaced with him. For Evie, it was that smile. 

Instead of all this, he says, "What will Miss Eva do today?" It was the weekend after all, so her private tutors wouldn't be coming for lessons. 

"We haven't gotten any _special mail _for me?", Evie asks Wonry who just tilts his head, as if trying to understand what she constitutes as special mail. "I meant if there's been a letter from Hogwarts", surely she'd be getting her letter soon. 

Eager to complete his first task from Miss Eva today, Wonry takes the question as an order, "Wonry will check if there is mail for Miss Evanth- Wonry means Miss Eva", he corrects himself quickly and with a pop disappears. "I guess that is a no", Evie speaks into the empty room already used to his oddities.

\---------------

Sitting on the breakfast table, Evie sits with only her younger sister, Grace, who is entirely transfixed on cutting through her syrup-soaked pancakes with only her spoon. 

Wonry pops back, "Sorry Miss Eva, Wonry did not means to take so long. But the owls wanted s'a treat before releasing mails and then Mistress calls Wonry to go pick up package at Diagon Alley". Out of breath, and slowly recovering, Wonry hands the mail to Eva. 

"You'd think she'd send Heely since that's _ her _house elf. But alas, Genevieve has to get you to run her errands", voice dripped in sarcasm as she goes through the house mail. _He was probably too focused on getting the mail that he didn't check the senders, _Evie thought, amused as Wonky peered over her shoulder.

_Here it is, _addressed to Evanthia Rosier. When she opens the letter, she's not even reading it. The excitement running through her bloodstream, _I can finally find out where he is, _she catches herself thinking before burying that thought and turning to Wonry and telling him to call Father and tell him that she got into Hogwarts.

"What's Hogwarts?", Grace says, popping into the conversation, looking excited that Evie is excited, who then tells her. 

"I am going to Hogwarts too", Grace declares, with the mighty conviction only a five year old can have, and Evie smiles knowingly. "Of course you'll go", she agrees diplomatically with Grace, watching her amber eyes sparkle, then says plainly, "when you're eleven". 

For a flicker of moment, Grace's face falls. "What?", exclaimed Grace, in pure indignation. 

"Those are the rules, Gracie. You'll have to wait until then", shrugs sympathetically. It felt great to be on the other side of those words. 

After years of hearing about Hogwarts, nothing matched the exhilaration of seeing her name on that letter. Heely pops into the room, and exclaims, "Congradulations Miss Evanthia. Mistress is already s'a plan a party for you".

Evie thought she shouldn't even bother trying to get an Eva out of Heely, she'd probably burst into tears. 

\--------------

At the congratulations party, Evie greeted guests in the main hall. People who she hadn't seen since her birthday party last year, while her mother floated in the midst of all the chatter, the social butterfly she was. Evie wondered how much of this was for her and how much was to remind the social circles that Jacob is not the only Rosier child. Despite that, Grace was not allowed to engage in the festivities and was relegated to the tots area in the sitting room.

After complaining to her mother for two hours over all the unfairness in the world, Grace then found that she had to wear a daisy white dress and the chaos erupted. All the while Evie just laughed. She laughed as their mother decided that she _had_ to go with a periwinkle dress because it brought out the blue in her eyes. She laughed as Grace stomped her feet over which patron saint had forsakened her today.

It was all because Genevieve wanted them to give homage to Crius's Hogwarts house, Ravenclaw. And Evie laughed again, certain that since her mother was going to wear orange it was why it couldn't be her. 

Now her father, well. Crius was many things. If anyone had to describe him, you'd say Crius Rosier looked cold. Pale skin, straight white hair and sharp blue eyes that missed nothing. While Genevieve was almost the exact opposite. On the worst days, when the weight of Jacob's disappearance hung under the tongue of every word they shared and everything felt so manufactured that she just wanted to scream, Evie wondered why anyone would ever want to have her parents. 

Genevieve believed in being the center of attention at your own party, and thought that Evie should be at the heart of the festivities. So she shook hands, smiled, made small talk, greeted everyone and made sure to always be where people could see her. 

In reality, she had to do very little to make herself stand out. Evie was Rosier blue eyes. She was white hair, bordering on silver, with deeply tan skin. Jacob had been hazel eyes, shifting from brown to green. _Not the time to think about him._

"How are you enjoying the party?", she asked Mrs. Carrow, not missing a beat as she smiled politely. Acmentos Carrow was a wight of a woman, but her tongue was a dagger that she had sharpened deadly through the course of her life. She was ginger hair and a sallow complexion, standing at no more than 5 feet and one and a half. But when Acmentos saw the Rosier girl who was usually knee deep in some debate about whatever tomfoolery was happening at the Ministry that week, she saw loss. Not apparent like isolation or reclusive behaviour. Just a slight dimness in her eyes. A vacancy of sorts. 

That was something something Acmentos knew plenty about. The Carrows were hit by many a tragedy after the war. Losing members to death and imprisonment. Her only sister among the lost. Yes, Acmentos knew loss very well. 

So after their conversation, if Mrs. Carrow spent the night shooting glares at anyone who even uttered the name Jacob in the vicinity of the young Miss Rosier, it may be merely coincidental. 

While at the centre of the party, sipping slowly the drink in her hand stood the celebrated girl. Who instead of her very missing brother, had decided to think about the one sibling she had near. Grace. Evie thought Grace was golden.

When she looked at Grace, who always apologised when she was wrong. Grace who Evie found outside her bedroom door in the hallway the night she understood that Evie would be going _away _to Hogwarts, but didn't go inside because she didn't want to bother her. Grace who wore her heart on her sleeve. Evie couldn't help but think that if her parents could make someone like that, then maybe there was hope for the rest of them.

\-----------------

A month later, Evie trails behind her mother as she ticks off items from the school shopping list. Genevieve was having the time of her life getting everything in order, talking to friends and acquaintances that they stumbled upon at Diagon Alley, and in the midst of all the excitement, Evie meets Rowan Khanna. Bookish and earnest Rowan. 

It only takes Genevieve two minutes to figure out who Rowan's parents are, then she invites her along with them, which Rowan seems unable to not accept. "She decided that we we're all going shopping, I don't think there was much you could've done to get out of it. Trust me, I've tried everything", Evie tells Rowan, and all the nervous energy in Khanna seems to gear up.

"Relax, Mother can be a bit much but at most you're just going to end up with a new hat or something else entirely vain and unnecessary", Evie explained calmly as they walked into Ollivanders. "I should probably get my parents so they give me some sickles, or a galleon or two. Wands should be on the pricier side of the expenses list, right? I don't know why I'm asking, of course I know. My parents own a wood farm, a lot of the wood is used to make wands. I'm talking too much, okay, I'll stop. Just, hold on. You did know right, your mum just went in and, and I assumed you knew-"

"Rowan, breathe. In and out. Easy", Evie was patting Rowan's back and noticed that they had almost lost Genevieve in the sea of customers before them. So, pulling Rowan along, they ended up testing wands to find the _one _for them. For Rowan, it was simple, two tries and voilà. But of course, as the fates would have it, nothing is ever _that _simple for Evie. So when she tries wand after wand, all kinds of weird shit decides to happen, an unfamiliar sense of dread starts creeping in.

Until Ollivander says, "tricky one, just like her brother", before going to look for other boxes of wands to test, "I still remember when he came in perhaps a decade ago. 12 inches, Blackthorn, dragon heartstring core, flexible. It took about twenty tries to find his wand". As Evie takes out a new wand to test, she misses the shadow that crosses his face. "That sounds like a very good wand, Mister Ollivander", Rowan says, and for once, Genevieve is just sitting at one side of the room with a dreamy look on her face and not including herself in the conversation.

"Very - quite powerful wand", he said dolefully.

More chaos follows as Evie tries another wand, "how is it just getting worse", she mutters to herself hotly. _Yes, a tricky one she is, _Ollivander decides as he takes out three more boxes from the very back of the store. 

"What happened with young Mister Rosier must have had an impact on you", the change in conversation leaves Evie dazed for a moment. Enough for Genevieve to abruptly add in, "isn't that too dreary a topic for a summer afternoon?" her tone light but the message clear, _ drop it. _A silent battle of wills between Ollivander and her, only visible in their eyes. 

Evie knew her mother would not let anyone force her into having _this_ conversation, but she still chose to answer, "I was angry, at first, but when that faded I just felt... I felt determined, to know. Whatever there is to know. Whatever knowing may lead to". This breaks the stare-off, Ollivander turns to look at the young girl before him in interest. 

It was the first time she had said it aloud. Genevieve's face hadn't changed from it's regal calm, but her eyes had gone softer, and Evie never noticed as she gripped her gloved hands so she wouldn't reach out.

Ironically, only Rowan was confused as to who they were all talking about and decided to stay out of the talk for that reason. "Well, then. I think I have the wand for you", he reaches to the third wand box and says, "if you please". 

That was it. That was her wand. No exploding boxes or paper flying everywhere. No out of sorts sparks, this one was just right. 

Genevieve covers the bills, and steers them both towards Madam Malkin's. While Rowan is left gaping at seeing how she waves off any attempt to arrange paying back the costs. "It's no problem at all, dear", Mrs. Rosier smiles as she ticks off another item from the list. 

Heading out, Evie turns around and looks at Ollivander one last time. He's once again behind his counter and winks.

\----------- 

The day had finally arrived. She was going to Hogwarts. Grace had bags under her eyes and looked oh so pale, but she was refusing to lose any moment with Evie while she was still there. She had been tricked out of coming along on the Diagon Alley shopping trip, but she was five and getting wiser. 

"I'll write you, alright? You'll get tired of reading my letters. Plus you'll finally get a chance to improve your calligraphy. It's absolutely_ horrid", _Evie offered reassurance, teasingly. A teary eyed little sister looking up at her, "will you really?" 

"Every chance that I get".

Crius and Genevieve stood quietly with the trolley on the platform. In the crowds of people, you couldn't see him gripping it as Evie hugged Grace, after she had flung herself at her older sister. _Please, Merlin. Hecate, anyone. Just please. _

Her mother memorizes her face in to her memory, the smile she has on, the bustling energy she's exuding. The strand of hair tucked behind her left ear.

Genevieve kisses her on the hair and says, "write me, okay darling?" Which she had done to Jacob too, once upon a time. So, so long ago that it felt like a lifetime. 

But as her heart squeezes, she just hopes that this time her child will be returned to her. And she pushes away what Evie said at Ollivanders. _She'll look, _her heart replies to all her worries. 

And Genevieve wonders if she can take another heartbreak. Because she isn't sure there's a version of this story where Evie doesn't go after him. Whatever there is of him.

"Look out for my care package, Evie", Crius tells her, smiling. More for her sake. "Couldn't miss it for the world", Evie replies before rushing in to board the train. But not before turning to wave one last time. 

\--------------------- 

Evie finds an empty compartment, and all is well in the world once again. She had bought more candy that she could eat. In one sitting. And now, she can finally think about looking for Jacob.

Somebody opens the compartment door brusquely, and she turns to look.

A girl with short brown hair, a patch of orange on her semi-bangs? "Ugh, I thought it was empty", the girl huffs and then looks at Evie heavily, with a level stare as if she's assessing her. Evie does not squirm or twitch, even though she wants to. Instead she just narrows her eyes and says, "you sitting down, or what?"

The girl huffs once again, then finally walks in closing the compartment door. It appears she may have resigned herself to Evie's company, which was fine by her.

"Nearly bought out Honeydukes, you want some?", to which the girl gave Evie another heavy stare. While she just threw some chocolate frogs her way, already having decided that this strange girl was now stuck with her. 

"I'm Evie", she said, holding her hand out to the girl who had just began unwrapping the chocolate frogs slowly, peering into them suspiciously as if she didn't trust them.

"I don't trust them either. But that's part of the fun", with her hand still out, now waving it at her.

The girl looked at her, then her hand, then her again. And finally sighed dramatically. "Snyde. Merula Snyde", she says, and there's a pause, a breath, before she shakes Evie's hand.

"Great, now that you have properly introduced yourself", Merula rolls her eyes, and Evie smiles brightly, regardless of this, then pauses, "wait, I've heard that name before". Merula's eyes involuntarily close and she visibly shrinks away when she hears that. Evie sees it, but only files it away and makes no mention of it. 

"Yeah, well. Whatever", Merula says, tries to re-wrap the chocolate frog she had started on. Now beginning to get up. 

"You're leaving? Nooo. But you just got here. Not to mention, it's quite unbecoming to run-off in the middle of a social gathering, Mer", Evie grabs her arm and tugs her back on the seat.

"You... don't... want me to... go?", Merula pauses, trying to work it out herself. Dumbfounded by this development. 

"No, of course not, dearie. We haven't even gotten completely acquainted, Merula dear", Evie chatters on, a lifetime with Genevieve springing on auto-mode.

She had hoped to see Rowan, but she wouldn't jeopardize this golden opportunity to attain a new friend either. Life at the manor, meant not many chances to see children her age, aside from the occasional arranged play date or cousin visit. And Grace was mostly all the day-to-day interactions she had with children. 

Something in her people's radar told her not to treat Merula like Grace. 

"You don't _know_, do you?", Merula mutters quietly, more to herself than the girl next to her.

And Evie's years of listening in on Crius's study conversations or Genevieve's tea parties had honed her ear to pick up low whisperings. "Well, I feel like I've heard the name Snyde before. Hmm, well, I'm sure it'll come to me", unperturbed, she carries on. "By the way, I'm Evie. Evie Rosier, since you're giving me Merula Snyde", Evie tells her, then pops in another Every Flavour Bean, "mmm, butterscotch marshmallow". 

"Rosier? Oh, that explains all of this", Merula waves a hand at her whole face and she can't help but laugh. _She really doesn't know how to talk to people, does she? <strike></strike>_Merula's face brightens, which Evie doesn't mention either but continues laughing. 

"Well, we are a pretty _noticeable _bunch, I suppose", she responds off-handedly, a good-natured smile across her face. Not every Rosier looked like a Rosier, and _that _ made it funnier somehow.

She couldn't explain it, but it's as if Merula right then and there decided that Evie wasn't about to attack her. There's a switch in her inflection, and this further brightens Evie's disposition, _my new friend. _

"Which House do you think you'll get sorted into?", Evie asks, while throwing her legs on Merula's lap, who looks at her exasperated but still replies, "Slytherin, obviously".

"Hmm... Slytherin... Not bad", Evie muses, she knew a good amount of Slytherins. So many of her family were Slytherins. 

A lot of the old pureblood circles that Genevieve knew were also Slytherins. The Blacks, Lestranges, Carrows, Malfoys. Almost all made of entirely Slytherins. Many of them were in some way or form related to her.

Yes, Evie deicded, she wouldn't mind being in that House.

"How about you, Rosier?", Merula asks.

Evie blinks dumbly at her. Admittedly, she could see how that's where the conversation was headed but still hadn't worked it out, "well, I hadn't thought about all that much", responding sheepishly. "I could end up in Ravenclaw, like my dad. Or perhaps Gryffindor, like my brother. Or maybe neither..." 

"Your brother was in _Gryffin__dor_", she spits out with disdain. A cardinal sin in the eyes of the young Snyde. 

"Ravenclaw, I can understand. They're not so bad, but you'd actually consider going to the greasy lions? Where's your blood pride? Gryffindor has got nothing but muggle-loving blood traitors". And just like that it all clicked in Evie's head, Snyde, blood status, blood traitors. _The Death Eaters that Mother was talking about. They were sent to Azkaban...They must have been her parents._

Nevertheless, none of this is shown in Evie's face, "Firstly, just call me Evie". 

_Pureblood protocol states that we only use first names with an emphasis on nicknames when courting, _Merula screams in her head. Her face heating up once again. 

The blush she had been fighting back comes once again with a vengeance. Something that she had been trying to control ever since she began speaking to this complicated girl. _She can't be serious._

Evie thinking that she had just been embarrassed with the informality, went on, "it's _alright_. You can also just call me Eva, if Evie is too much". _There that should be easier,_ she thought smiling brightly. 

Meanwhile, Merula keeps screaming in her head, feeling slightly light-headed. _Rosier is **pureblood**, surely she must understand what she's suggesting? To be fair, she has been very forward from the beginning... but no. Yet, she even called me Merula several times. And also Mer._

_"_Mer, c'mon, say it with me. E-va", reaching out and now playing with her hair. 

If Merula's face could get any redder Evie contemplated if her head would explode. 

"Eva", Merula rasps out, without meaning to. _Oh no. Well, it's done now. At least Rosier is from a recognized pureblood family in good standing. I could do a lot worse, and... she's pret-_

"What else do you know about Hogwarts?", Evie interrupts her train of thought, moving around so that she was now resting her head on Merula's lap and looking up at her. 


	2. We're On Each Other's Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they begin to settle in Hogwarts, Evie notices that some people are behaving strangely.

* * *

* * *

Merula tells Evie everything that she had heard about Hogwarts from her parents. Her certainty that she will be in Slytherin, the common room layout she thought would be there, the few places she could describe from memory. Eyes shining with an excitement that reminded Evie that they were just eleven. Nothing but kids, and they were going into this together.

A reassurance that she didn't know she needed.

"I only have stories from my brother", Evie says offhandedly, not really meaning to, _<strike>my parents won't talk about Hogwarts since Jacob was expelled just a few months short of graduating. </strike>_

"Is your brother older?” Merula's voice more interested than she'd ever admit to really being. Secretly wanting to know more about Evie, anything she could learn of her really. 

"Yes, he's older. How about you? Any siblings?”, quickly diverting the conversation away from her brother. 

"I'm an only child", Merula said with so much finality that Evie wondered what else she meant by it.

"You ever wanted a sibling? They're annoying tossers, ten times out of nine, but they're also built-in friends. It's sort of hard to feel alone when there's always someone there", Evie starts chattering, unthinking. 

Some invisible weight falls on Merula as she retreats into herself once again, "I can't have siblings", she said quietly. 

And Evie catches this, a swell of panic rising, _Evie_,_ you absolute pillock! Her parents are in Azkaban and you're asking her if she's ever wanted a sibling and telling her about how you can't feel alone with one. Mer probably lives alone. If they haven't sent her to one of those dreadful orphanages Crius was always threatening Jacob with._

_"_You figured it out", Merula says with certainty, somehow quietly. This inevitably pulled Evie out of her internal panic and into a new wave of worry.

Before she can assure her that she never intended to steer the conversation there, Merula filled the space, "it’s been about two years now… when they were sent away". A forlorn look on her face as Merula turns to stare out the train window. 

Evie, who still has her head on Merula's legs, "dearie, I'm so sorry", tells her sincerely. Since somebody should say it.

Instead of _I can't imagine how you feel, _because she _can_ imagine how it feels to lose the most important person in your life. Living with the hole left behind from their existence. But while Evie lost her brother, Merula lost _both_ of her parents. This must have rocked her entire life. But still she can only try to visualize a world without her parents. Without Grace, and Wonry and Heely. And her cousins. Her grandparents. There are so many people who would have to disappear before she was left alone. Merula was alone.

She closed her eyes and imagined a life like that. That’s the first time Evanthia Rosier would feel the bite of loneliness.

Evie momentary decides she will write them both her parents tonight, even if all she pens down are random ramblings. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have someone to address a letter to.

For this, Evie is also _so_ _very_ sorry.

"Why are you apologizing? It's not like you had anything to do with it", now defensive, like an iron maiden the vulnerability is shut closed, and left behind is the acidulous tone she used when she came in the train compartment. Despite this, Merula makes no attempt to push her off. Evie takes this as a good sign. 

"I'm not apologizing. It's called sharing sympathy", _you'll probably never see them again, _Evie recovers quickly. 

_I don't want your pity, _Merula thinks darkly. She looks down and sees Eva looking at her solemnly. This is the first time she has seen her without an excitable expression on her face, and it’s enough to give Merula pause.

"Mer, will you abandon me if I end up in Gryffindor?", Evie asks stone-faced. Merula sputters for a response, and then bursts out laughing. _Really? _

"What if I end up in Hufflepuff?", Evie keeps her composure, enjoying that her new friend is laughing for the first time since they met. Despite it being at her, she'd call this a win.

The laughs get louder, and Merula's eyes water as she tries to catch her breath. She can't remember ever laughing so hard. 

Years later, Merula will not remember the conversation well, mostly just how she laughed so hard her stomach hurt and eyes grew blurry. She'll remember that day as too many sweets, a white haired girl and the beginning of everything. 

\-------------

First years are being sorted and Rowan catches her eye and smiles briefly; one girl at the front and the other near the back of their pack of Firsties, nervous and jittery. A silent conversation between the two, as Rowan walks away from the group of first years and towards the Sorting Hat. Evie grabs Merula’s hand out of impulse and squeezes, her eyes following Rowan. _C’mon, Rowan, you can do this. _She misses how Merula looks to her and their hands.

The Hall is quiet and waits for the Hat to do its deliberating. 

Rowan looks minutes away from hyperventilating, just like when she got flustered at Diagon Alley. "RAVENCLAW", the Hat cries out, not even five seconds after touching her head. The blue and bronze table erupts in applause and cheers. She walks nervously to the table. 

Merula levels a look at Rowan with a bored expression, while next to her Evie waves at her excitedly with her right hand. Rowan's face lights up, before waving back. Then a few more students went up after. All the while, Evie was looking around and taking in the scene.

"Eva Rosier", Professor McGonagall calls out, and Evie breathes out air she had been holding, since she didn't say Evanthia. _The world doesn't need to hear that._

Merula looks at her and Evie looks back, and sees Merula smile at her. "Here goes", she tells her, inhales and lets it go then walks up.

The Hall had quieted down again, but she could hear the whispers, "Is that Jacob Rosier's sister?" "Rosier?" "I heard her brother was expelled" "I heard he's missing" "Probably defected". The whispers growing in white noise, as she crossed the seemingly unending walk towards the Sorting Hat.

Evie braces herself, there is no Crius to dare them to speak with his cold glare or Genevieve to shield her from their words, but she would not cower. _I have been hearing all this for years. _Her face is a well-practiced mask and she does not shrink underneath their scrutiny. 

When the Hat is placed on her, it engulfs her whole head. "Interesting... Another Rosier has arrived. A good mind, just as the last", a voice speaks into her head, and if Jacob hadn't told her about the sorting, she would have panicked for at least a long second. 

"Brave one too. Not as daring as one before you, but there is more... Hmm... The last Rosier went to Slytherin, you see. However... You are a strange one", the Hat said, and Evie tried not to think. Knew he would hear it. "You remember him?", she found herself ask, quietly. 

"Ah, and she speaks. Yes, I remember them all. Every witch or wizard who has ever been sorted by this old Hat", the voice spoke into her mind. "Why did you send him to Gryffindor?", she whispers. Her mother was convinced that Jacob would've been fine had he not been sent to the den of troublemakers. But her father told her that it was inconsequential. Jacob had always been an adventurer at heart. Like a wild horse he would’ve ran straight towards the great unknown.

A part of Evie just wanted to know _what was it? _What had the Hat seen in his head to think it the best place for him? Had he known what would happen, would he have still done it? 

Her heart pounded in her eyes, palms sweating. She waited on the Hat to say something. Anything. Time seemed to pass by crawling. A bead of sweat was forming by her left temple and her head feeling too hot in the tattered hat.

"That Rosier boy with a mind exploding with so much inside. There was a thirst for glory, a hunger that I had seen in others before him. But he was different, somehow. Above all, there was a joy in the ride itself. A careless flaw, I suppose".

"Gryffindor would serve him best", the Hat spoke with finality, now aware of what had befallen him, no doubt after peering in her head. A pang of dread hits Evie, _there was a chance. He could've gone somewhere else. Would he have stayed? Would any of this have happened if only __that__ had been different? _

"No mistake done. I stand my choice"

"Clever girl, to pique this torn Hat's interest with such interesting thoughts", the   
Hat paused, "yes, I see it. It appears that once again, a Rosier will go to-". 

"SLYTHERIN", it doesn't even take one moment before the green and silver table erupts into cheers. As Evie walks up to the table, she catches what the Gryffindors say. "She's just like the others" "How long before this one to goes bad" “What would you had expected from a family of Death Eaters”… 

_You will not cower, _she thought to herself, holding her head high. Now headed to the other students who clapped heartily and patted her shoulder as passed to take a seat. She looked at the group of Firsties left and grinned at Merula, whose eyes glittered under the candlelit Hall with a half-hearted smirk.

\------------------

Naturally, Merula got sorted into Slytherin too. Another quick sorting by the Hat. Unsurprisingly. Ismelda Murk and Liz Tuttle were also sorted there. And were all placed in the same dorm room. 

"How exciting, Mer. We're going to be roommates", Evie tells her, pulling her in a hug that Merula allowed herself to be caught in.

The prefects see but doesn't see, the Firsties talking loudly and they split into factions as one leads them to their room and the other barks orders at them for later. She smiles at Felix, their prefect, _so that's how you're going to be._

Evie writes her mother first. She tells her about the strange girl she met in the train compartment. Certain that her mother will know her family history after one look at the name, and then congratulate her on her new friend. She tells her about the muggleborn boy who looked deadly pale when he was sent over to Gryffindor. And how she doesn't understand why she can't have her own room, or at least just share with Merula since the two other girls seem... Well, how to put it politely. 

She doesn't mention her conversation with the Hat, nor how she hasn't spoken to Rowan since that day at Diagon Alley despite all the letters she had been sent and replied to each of. After being ushered in to the Common Room by Felix, oh how ironic. She doesn't mention that she hadn't noticed until now when they’re being shown around, how Felix avoids making eye contact with her but is so quick to point out a faux-pas as if she should know the intricacies of Slytherin life.

Evie rolls her eyes when Merula pulls her along the crowd to see the dorm rooms, after she’d been glaring into Felix’s profile. All of which he happily ignored.

Then she wrote her father, telling him she arrived well and already made a new friend. She doesn't mention her last name to him since she'd rather her mother casually mention it, rather than write it on parchment. He's quick, no Genevieve, but certainly will put two and two. She tells him that she got sorted into Slytherin, she prefers him telling her. Already aware of his most likely reaction, and asks him how Wonry is taking her time away. 

Finally, she writes Grace. Tells her about the sweets she bought, and the train, the kindly man who could be a giant or perhaps just the tallest man she’d ever met and the lake he helped them cross on their way to Hogwarts, and the beautiful hall. She tucks some candy in the envelope and sends off her owl with all the letters. 

\--------------

At Transfiguration class, Evie sits with Merula and zips through the lesson effortlessly undoing a transfigured mouse from a tea cup. Professor McGonagall smiles at her briefly after she does it three times in a row. Evie beams at this, and sets to spring out questions to McGonagall. 

Having watched Genevieve transfigure any letter that came in regards to Jacob's disappearance by their many oh so concerned family friends into his favorite flowers. She filled the house one Corn Flower at a time, each one brighter than the last, with one swift wave of the wand.

This, coupled with years of careful instruction by her tutors, made Evie quite the pupil in this subject. Put frankly, she was many steps ahead to begin with. Like many privileged magical children, she had been schooled in simple charms and transfigurations since infancy. Having study schedules crafted merely to prepare them for their time at Hogwarts.

The class was supposed to attempt undoing a transfiguration and then call Professor McGonagall over to transfigure it again, and repeat the process until they had perfected their technique. It was just the first class, so no one was expected to have it down. It was obvious which students had gotten it quickly, and unsurprisingly, they were mostly among the fortunate few with instructors who had pre-school.

Murk got it quickly, and even started coaching Tuttle through it who begrudgingly accepted the help. While Gudgeon, Lee and the other Slytherin boys whose names Evie didn’t remember seemed focused on tormenting the Ravenclaws in the class.

A warmth spread over the Head Gryffindor when Evie called her over, once more. Face alight up when asking her if she could make it a red cup, or add stars, or flowers, or a hundred other little things. _She is a happy child, open and expressive, _Minerva thought briefly. _Also shows promise. _

"Mer, move the wand lightly. You're not a lumberjack chopping wood", Evie teased lowly, and Merula rolled her eyes and lightly shoved her.

"You're just showing off to make up for your disastrous potion", Merula retorted quietly back.

"That was _our _potion. And _you're _the one that nearly burned off your sleeve zoning out into space. You're lucky that I shifted the attention before Snape noticed", Eva whispered back.

McGonagall listened in to their conversation, and reminisced on past students. _Perhaps Merula is nothing like her parents. _

This lively girl did not seem like the solemn Balthos Snyde she had taught, or the callous Avaranthia Yaxley. But that was definitely Crius Rosier's daughter. 

"Professor, would you look at my cup?", McGonagall turned to see that Miss Karasu's still hadn't gotten the body of the mouse just managing to shift the ears and tail, but she said, "Very good for a fifth attempt. Now try it again", as she undid the transfiguration and redid it, so Tulip could see the process once again. 

Patience was something Minerva had for young minds that wanted to know more. A burst of giggles, and she knew that it was the two Slytherins at the front. Normally she would scold them for such behavior, but this was the first week and they were first years. 

McGonagall remembered Merula's parents, Balthos and Avaranthia, she had seen their talent and their prejudice grow in their time in these halls, and she remembered Eva's father well too, Crius. All loud laughter and witty remarks, Crius who did not see people for what he wanted them to be. Despite, his apparent idealism. 

Then when they had all grown and left, many years later, she had a new type of Rosier in her class. Gone was the shock of white hair and now there was dark curls and eyes that looked for the thrill in life. It wouldn't be fair to compare those two to all the other Rosiers she had taught, but it was hard not to.

McGonagall remembered Jacob Rosier. While Crius looked all calm and collected, but had ended up in Flitwick's office many times over his pranks that he claimed were "for magic kind", and the evolution of the magical world. Filius had sat in the professors’ lounge many a-times and miserably recounted the latest headache-inducing stunt Crius had pulled. 

Jacob, on the other hand, walked around with an aura that radiated radioactive happiness, he was also reckless and twice the trouble his father had ever been and _that_ was saying something. But he had been in her House. And in her office many times. _Then he had to go and... _

No Minerva would not think about that. Not now. With his little sister steps away, and all these still so young children so far away from home.

Only time would tell what these children would grow into.

For now, she'd watch them laughing quietly, and whispering to each other. She'd watch them like she had watched their parents grow, and leave. 

\-------------------

Genevieve worked at the Ministry of Magic, which was no big surprise with her predilection for being _in the know. _She socialized with many different circles in Magical Britain, from old pureblood families who had set views on Light or Dark which became more established after the First Wizarding War, to the halfbloods who came in with completely different ideas entirely. 

Also, with Crius being a businessman operating in both the Magical and Muggle worlds, she had met even more people to add to her network. Crius saw the value in people, it's what made him a fortune during the war while everyone else was fighting and dying.

Genevieve had gone back to France during the worst of it and taken a young Eva and infant Grace.

Jacob had asked to stay in Hogwarts. Not a day went by after his disappearance where she wished she hadn't accepted. But it was done now. 

And now, her darling daughter had written to her about her first day._ A new friend_, Genevieve pauses at the letter, and smiles, _and a Snyde, at that_.

She had thought with Eva's disposition that she would have gravitated towards the Haywood girl she had heard was bright and cheerful, or even stay with Rowan Khanna, the young girl she met during their trip to Diagon Alley. They seemed to get along swimmingly. 

"Eva, Eva, Eva, of course you had to go and befriend the child of two convicted Death Eaters", she couldn't help but find it funny. It sounded exactly like something Crius would've done in the past.

Damned be all, no one could stop Crius if he had his heart set on something, _perhaps that was where Jacob got it._

In her letter back to Evie, Genevieve promised to see what could be done about the living arrangements, but to bear with it for now. Also, to remember to be kind to the people she will be living with. Or they would never believe any kindness she showed them in the future. 

She sent back two boxes of pistachio and coconut macaroons, as a congratulation to her and her friend, _that Snyde girl must be awfully lonely. _

As one of the most well-connected people in England, she knew of the fates of most of the sentenced Death Eaters, and of the families they left behind. But as far she knew, the Snydes had no extended family.

Apart from Avaranthia Yaxley's sister, she couldn’t think of any living and not imprisoned relative. She would check on this, Eva sounded very enthusiastic about this new friend. Genevieve had never been very acquainted with them beyond brief encounters while around society. But she was aware that there weren't many Yaxleys left either. 

Eva hadn't mentioned the sorting, but if she was rooming with a Snyde and a Murk, then it's unlikely that she is in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. This is a minor relief, but also means that a target would be painted on Eva’s back. She was a Rosier and her brother had disappeared under mysterious circumstances before the latest disaster in the Magical world. 

People would infer, and inevitably, talk. It didn’t matter if they were right or if they singled out a child in the process, the rumors would come.

Rumors showed how they had started to call him a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's followers. A traitor to Magical society. 

In Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, the rumors would have lessened eventually. But now... 

Making up her mind, Genevieve decided she would get on the Hogwarts Board of Governors. There were people who owed the Rosiers favors, and it would be easier to protect her from there. _I will soften every edge, _she thought as she sent off the owl with her response. 

\--------------

Evie had finally gotten to Rowan while she was in the library, after the third week of almost catching up to her. She was starting to believe that Rowan was avoiding her. 

They had Transfiguration first thing every week and Rowan always left like a bat straight out of hell before she could catch up to her. And History of Magic was too much of a dull affair to bother doing anything but sleep as Professor Binns droned on and some voice kept pipping in.

She sat across from her on the table she had surrounded by books, "Rowan, I haven't seen much of you since we got here. You don't even say hello in class. Which I'll have you know is not very polite". 

"I've actually had, had a lot of reading to catch up on", Rowan says with a high voice, and begins packing up her bag. "Actually I'm done here. I have to go to my common room. So, I'll be off". The same nervous energy was there but she seemed more than just flustered. 

"You're sure? I was wondering if you'd want to go over some of the Charms homework. Mer is the worst at Charms, and I could use the practice with someone with a better form", if it was possible, Rowan appeared to hurry even more. 

"In that case, I heard that Ben Cooper is great at Charms. Maybe he's a better choice. Anyways, I have to go", Rowan all but flew off like a bat out of hell, again.

Leaving Evie now certain that she was avoiding her.

Something didn't sit right with her. As far as she knew, Rowan Khanna would not pass up an opportunity to engage in an educational activity. She had sent pamphlets on different subjects that they'd cover in the year, and tried to convince Evie to read up on book after book of background topics.

Something was up, and she'd figure it out. 

\------------------

As the days went by, Rowan continued fleeing when she so much as saw her nearby and it was really beginning to get to Evie. _I thought we were supposed friends. _

After meeting at Diagon Alley, Rowan had sent her letters nearly every day.

They had inside jokes and her mother had already told her about asking her if she wanted to visit the manor on the winter break. Now Evie wasn't even certain that Rowan would willingly go into a room with her in it, unless there were maybe at least a dozen people between them. 

"Mer?", Evie asked Merula, who was lying on the grass beside her near the Black Lake.

Merula hummed in acknowledgement. There were some trees that gave them shade and they would laze around there in their free periods, after discovering it on the first week. As first years, they didn't have many classes and took advantage of the leisure time it provided. 

_"_Do you know Rowan Khanna?", Evie asked Merula, and looked over to her to make sure that she hadn't fallen asleep. In fact, Evie knew that they had as year mates, they were constantly around each other but, well, Merula didn’t see what she didn’t want to see. And Rowan didn’t look like Mer’s kind of people.

Merula's eyes were closed, so Evie started shaking her lightly, then harder after she still hadn't answered her. "Okay, okay, I heard you. Stop it", Merula swatted her hands and opened her eyes.

"So do you know her?", Evie asks her, propping on her elbow and leaning closer. All but crowding above Merula’s face.

"Doesn't really ring a bell", Merula says exasperated by the endless probing.

"She's a Ravenclaw in our year. And we have Transfiguration with her. Ismelda always repeats her answers louder, and Barnaby dropped his porcupine on her and claimed that it was Tulip' s fault for shining some bright light in his eyes", Evie starts telling her, "your face turned red from laughing. McGonagall looked ready to take points from Slytherin before I slapped my hands on your mouth to keep you quiet-". 

Merula still shrugged, "ugh, she's the one with glasses".

And Merula has the gall to snicker, "a Ravenclaw that wears glasses, oh how very rare. Of course, I will be able to conclude who you meant by that ever so detailed description". 

Bristled, "Listen, you twat, you're the one that doesn't remember her own year mates. Then has the nerve to be a tosser about it", Evie shoves Merula, who just laughs, then stops, and once again starts laughing, louder now. 

"Twat", Evie throws at her before dusting off and heading back to the building.

"Where are you going? We still have 20 minutes of free period left. It's not my fault you can't describe people properly", Merula hollered. 

Evie stopped, turned and flipped her off, "When you're done being a bloody wanker, come find me", storming off. 

_Whatever, I'll figure out why Rowan has been avoiding me like the plague. And I don't need your stupid help, you absolute twit, _Evie ranted in her mind. She could do this on her own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess why it is that Rowan is avoiding Evie?


	3. Who Is To Blame?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instead of confronting things, Evie decides to do it the roundabout way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is extra long to make up for how long it took me to update.

* * *

* * *

"Rictusempra", Evie casted and Barnaby began laughing. "Can you believe that she was just being a twit about it?", she asked Ben, who looked more concerned by her wildly waving wand directed at Barnaby. 

"Maybe you should undo the spell now?", his voice ended up higher than normal - in the background, Barnaby was laughing so much his eyes watered now. "What? Oh", having been taken out of her rant, she lowered her wand and Barnaby slumped down, catching his breath. 

"Now try your Flipendo", she instructed Ben. The copper-headed boy, nervously recoiled, "should we be practicing on a person?" The truth was that he wasn't much concerned about Barnaby's safety, mainly it was about whether he'd deck him after he casted the spell on him. 

Ben closed his eyes and thought of how his life came to be filled with so many Slytherins and their lack of interest for sensible life choices.

Following Rowan's suggestion, Evie had set her mind to tracking down this Ben Cooper. Despite Rowan all but erasing her from the friendship plane, Evie still very much valued her judgement. She had forgotten about the muggleborn boy who after the nerves melted away from the sorting, had his whole face lighten up with excitement. And then recoiled in fear once more. Evie had watched it happen at the feast with the gruesome fascination of a before-a-disaster photograph.

Ben, who had grown up without magic, to see it all at once, it was really no surprise that he found it terrifying. He did not know why some things floated or moved, and yet no one batted an eye. The staircases moved, the paintings waved and spoke to students. Ghosts floated above them, and owls delivered mail. Dragons were existed somewhere in this terrifying world, so did werewolves, vampires and perhaps even the undead. There were too many unknowns. 

Ben had been sorted into Gryffindor, but he didn't feel brave in Hogwarts. No, he was too busy trying to figure out how he'd survive it. And here came Eva Rosier, cornering him in the corridor in the West Corridor and refusing to let him walk away without hearing her out. Ben had been certain she was going to curse him, or spew hateful words like the other Slytherin in their year he had met in their early days. He shrunk away from her, but she was unruffled and had no wand in sight, Ben, ever a pessimist, thought that she wanted to punch him instead.

He had heard what the older Gryffindors, who would laugh loudly and cheerfully tell him where to go to get to class, would say about Slytherins, "They're all a bunch of Death Eaters in training", one spit out venomously. "What's a Death Eater?", Ben had asked. "They're the lunatics that followed the Dark Lord and wanted to keep the magical world for magic-only families, and basically dominate the world", a chestnut haired sixth year proclaimed. 

_All-magic families, no one in my family has magic but me, _he thought then. After that day, he avoided the Slytherins at all cost. He took one look at the green and silver on her robes and that unshakeable resolve in her eyes, and tried to high-tail it. But she would not allow him to flee; Eva had had enough of people avoiding her for no reason.

She was able to strong-arm him into practicing with her once he was convinced that she wasn't plotting to jinx the living daylights out of him. Eva promised that she wouldn't if he managed to get the highest mark in the Charms finals, "winner jinxes the other". Now, Ben decided, he had to win. There was no guarantee that she would keep her word, but he was willing to take the chance. 

When the other Slytherins that Eva hung out with, Ismelda and Liz, saw them practicing on Michael Gudgeon, another first year Slytherin, he realized that they weren't all plotting to kill him.

Ismelda sneered at him, but Eva offered a brilliant smile to her, and told her that Ben had finally mastered Mucus Ad Nauseam in case she wanted a test try. Then Ismelda laughed, and that was that. Ben did not know the secret code from which Slytherins operated, but he knew that they were alright. Or as alright as a cowardly Gryffindor can be with a horde of Slytherins. 

Lisa Tuttle had once asked Eva, days later, after hearing her complaining about some Ravenclaw who was avoiding her, why she didn't just force her way into their life like she had done with Ben. And Ben wondered as well.

But Eva asked him if it had been the same. She said it wasn't, not in the slightest. It was her turn to withdraw into herself and she thought it over.

Eva sought out Ben to practice with him, without the slightest inclination to befriend him. He would shudder like a scared rabbit if breeze hit him too hard, she couldn't see how they could have anything in common beyond the classes they had. And yet, against all odds, and that tiny voice in her head <strike>that sounded like her grandfather, Barnabas the Barmy Rosier, shouting "Mudblood"</strike> (not that he’d ever know that) <strike>and</strike> how disgraceful it was that she was fraternizing with someone like him.

Another voice asked if he had heard When Doves Cry (she actually told him that), the singer, Prince, was an American wizard who rebuffed the Magical regulations and released music to the muggle world. Her father played the songs while he was working on something or the other in his workshop. Eva hadn't met a single person in the magical world who even knew the song, beyond the Daily Prophet's condemnation that is.

"I love that song", Ben said with more feeling than she ever saw him with, "Have you heard Hello by Lionel Ritchie? Or Somebody's Watching Me? I usually feel like I'm being watched, and I never thought someone would make an entire song about it", he spoke in rapid-fire excitement.

From that day on, Ben would show her all the tapes he had for his Walkman and even though it didn't work because of the magical barriers in Hogwarts, they’d talk about all the artists he knew and she had never heard about. The two were convinced that they could figure out how to charm the Walkman into playing in the castle, they just needed to do some research and practice a little more. 

Brought out from musing, Eva answered him, "of course, how are we meant to get any good?", like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Ben would have to admit that his marks in Charms improved ever since they began practicing with the oafs that Evie would bribe into playing practice dummy. 

"Anyways, what do you think?", she sits on the side of a ledge in the courtyard, and watches as Ben casts the spell. Barnaby flips over, and looks more confused than usual, "the whole world is spinning", when he tries to get up. 

"Ah, don't hurt me", Ben shrieks, and jumps back a step. Eva ignoring the entire interaction snaps her fingers in front of Ben. "So, what do you think?" 

"Think?", eyes never leaving Barnaby on the ground.

"About Merula" 

If it was possible, his panic appeared to increase. "Me-, Me-, Merula? Well, I don't really think-", he began. Ben Cooper didn't think about Merula Snyde beyond how much distance he could put between her and his very-much-alive body. She would hurl insults at him, trip him in the halls, and even attempted to sabotage his potion in class, constantly, religiously, and sometimes succeeded. 

The worst was that when he tried to tell Professor Snape, he took twenty points from Gryffindor, then afterwards it was always five here, ten there.

No, he didn't think about the only Slytherin that made him think that some of the rumors where true. Well, that wasn’t fair. There were other, much older Slytherins that sneered at him in the halls and whispered _Mudblood _as they shoulder-checked him. He was sure it was some kind of insult.

With Slytherin, there were always rumors. Who were the worst ones, what their families had done in the war. Who were sent to Azkaban, who were never accounted for. In the Gryffindor Common Room, they spoke they rumors into existence and he heard them again in the eating breaks, hallways, whispered in between classes. He was a muggleborn Gryffindor, who admittedly spent a lot of time alone, so no one ever suspected he had befriended a Rosier. They had so much to say about her, and he didn’t think that was fair either.

_The rumors about Eva weren't true_, he’d tell himself, _they couldn't be_. She never mentioned his blood status and had a million questions about muggle world. _No, she couldn't be a Death Eater. That was reserved for vile witches like Merula Snyde. Or the Slytherin Head Boy. _

"You think I'm in the wrong? But she was a twat. I was just asking her if she knew Rowan, and everything was fine and dandy, and she had _no idea _who that was. Then the wanker starts about how _I'm_ the one who "d_oesn't know how to describe people", _Evie paced as Ben tried to and then failed to get her attention. _I wonder how you two can be friends. _A part of Ben worried that Merula would one day convince Eva to turn on him, and he had seen the destruction she could cause with her wand. It was absolutely terrifying. 

"Ev-. I-. Umm, well-", stumbling on his words, as she got more and more lost in her rant. 

"You're right, I shouldn't let these things bother me. Mer will come around, she's a horrible twat for 99 days, but on the 100th day, she'll do something that reminds me why she's my best mate. You know, I feel a lot more at peace and seeing things through this new perspective, I do agree that I should focus on one thing at a time" Evie worked through the entire conversation, "thanks a lot Ben, you gave me some real good insight". Ben looked at her in frazzled confusion. 

Barnaby who was crumbled on the ground, spoke up, "could you give me a hand? I can't feel my legs", Ben nearly jumped out of his skin. A hand clamped onto his shoulder, and he looked to see a nodding Evie, "mind taking him up to the Nurse's Office? I have to head down to the dungeons". 

"I don't think I can carry him alone", which logically explained the rising panic, coupled with being seen in a very public area with an injured Slytherin just spelled for trouble. "Can't stay, gotta go but you've got this, Ben. I believe in you", she shouted as she ran off.

In that moment, Ben thought that there were things much more terrifying that a Slytherin barging in on your life. Like the aftermath of this barging in. "Come on, let's try and get there before the fourth years finish Defense Against the Dark Arts", Ben attempted to steel himself with less resignation and more determination to get Barnaby to Madame Pompfrey. _I can do this. _

\-------------

"I need your help", Evie rushes out to Felix, who was in the Slytherin Common Room trying to look busy, at least that's what it looked like to her. "No", he tells her flatly, not even looking up.

"Felix, this is urgent", she stresses, sitting across from him in one of the lounge sofas, "don't care". 

She just couldn't understand why he was being so contrary if this was of utmost importance, “But I-". "And I said no. Don't care, don't want to know. Bye", looking at her dead in the eyes.

A stare off where neither budges, "I am going to tell _everyone in this castle_ about how _you _used to run around naked in my front lawn", she whispered loud enough so he could hear. In his mind, that meant plenty loud. He snapped his book close, and pulled her towards him by the robes, their faces inches apart.

"I was _six_. You wouldn't do that. No one would _ever _believe you", he whispered sharply. His jaw already grinding; aware that she was going to pull no punches in finding a way to rope him in whatever foolishness she’s decided to do.

"Oh _please_, Wonry documented _every_ part of my childhood. You really think he didn't also do it for _young Master Felix_?", she said smugly, and he shuddered. You wouldn't think she was the one being roughly gripped.

Because Felix did _know._ That house elf had this fanatical need to photograph everything after Uncle Crius gave him a magical camera. And Evie smiled at him, that twinkly-eyed smug smile, and he realized it was over.

"What do you want?", his voice now dejected, letting her go, along with his pride which he'd most definitely be losing some of soon. And she threw her arms around Felix's shoulders and crushed her cheek to his, and exclaimed, "You'll come to my aid, oh dearest cousin?" A fourth year student, saw this spectacle and stifled her laughter, when she saw the prefect glaring daggers at her as his first year cousin hung from him.

Felix sighed, much too used to Evie's behavior, "Must you go on in this way, Evanthia?". He had known that she'd come to Hogwarts any day now, well, that was if she wasn't sent to Beauxbattons, which her mother had attended. However, that would've only happened if he had any luck, which was something Felix had never had much of.

And when she arrived, he felt the pride of seeing another Rosier in Slytherin greens, where they belonged, but did it have to be her? His little cousin - this hellion with foul intentions. 

All he was going to do was put as much distance between him and that tyke for his remaining time in Hogwarts, it was a good plan up until it everyone noticed they had the same last name and threw him the first years, _since he must have experience babysitting anyways. _Melinda had smirked when the Head Boy came to this "logical conclusion". Actually she may have enjoyed it too much, she took notice of Evie's propensity to interrupting his peace with whatever she believed required his attention, and made it her own personal entertainment. 

Melinda Cavilando was too much of a sadist for that innocent, doe-eyed façade she put up. Too many fell for it. The first years learnt quickly that he was the lesser of two evils and decided that he was safer to bother. However, Evie took it further. She'd demand that he bring her sweets from Hogsmeade since first years weren't allowed to go. She'd all-but decided that he was her go-to for absolute fuckery. And even nearly blackmailing over him not wearing a matching white gold bracelet that Aunt Genevieve sent him. 

Felix had tried to put space between them two at first, but she had no inclination on allowing him to do so. And he was left with surviving this, just as he had all the else. 

Having the fact that his cousin had been expelled and then disappeared from the face of Magical Britain hanging over him, when he had just started attending school and then his father being murdered in the First Wizarding War. "Do you have to call me that? Would it kill you to call me Evie?", she retorted childishly. Looking every bit as petulant and scamp as he sees her in his mind's eye. A corner of his lips nearly lifted, _such a brat. _Nearly, but not quite. 

"It's your name, _Evanthia"_, he drawled out. She had been named after his father, Evan Rosier. Or Evander. His father didn't go by his given name either. He sometimes saw pieces of him in her. 

With her blue eyes and pale hair, she looked more like his father than Felix did. Perhaps it was one of the reasons she always managed to get under his skin.

"Prat", eyeing him accusingly, "anyways... I need the schedule for first year Ravenclaws". 

"I am not going to be party in the persecution of your crush. That poor bastard deserves a fighting chance", he informed her, already collecting his property. Leave it to her to decide that he'd aid her tormenting a poor soul unfortunate enough to have caught her fancy. Regardless of her attempt to fleece his help, he'd handle this new indignity with his head held high when she released the photographs of his embarrassing infancy. 

Evie stopped him and got close to his face, Felix widened his eyes at the sudden move, eyebrows knitting together, "s'not about a crush. I have been hearing some _slanderous_ rumors about the Rosier family. Word around the block is that the Ravenclaws in my year were saying that the Trials-"

"I'll get it to you by lunch... Eva", Felix cut her off, voice terse. His skin feeling like it was on fire.

A second and his entire mind had changed. Because this. This changed everything. 

For years he had carried the Rosier name with quiet dignity, while the rumors attempted to constrict him like a boa as he walked through the halls. The Common Room had become his safe haven; no one would jeer at him for his father's involvement in the war. Too many in the House had lost fathers, mothers, uncles, aunts, siblings. People that they loved. People they would miss for the rest of their lives. The war had vilified some of the people that mattered the most to them, and now they had to live with that. At most his House mates would comment on how Jacob was the bad apple in the Rosier family tree. First, a Gryffindor and then... 

Regardless, Felix would not stand for this. He was tired of being the bigger person. Evie watched as he stormed off towards the boys' dorms, her face an impassive mask.

It wasn't until she had roped Ismelda into walking with her to Flying class that her face broke out in a smile, _"_What's gotten you in such a good bloody mood?", Ismelda's face contorted in reproach. 

"It's a wonderful day, wouldn't you say?", almost gliding through the halls. If Evie bumped into someone, she didn't notice. Too focused on the buzzing in her chest. Once she dealt with the Rowan issue, perhaps Merula would have come to her senses and realized what a proper prat she was being, but in the meantime, she would enjoy this great, very good day.

\-------------

"What are you doing?", the Bloody Baron's voice appeared, having glided through the walls and into her space. 

"Surveying my options", Evie said unenthused.

"You're making a list?", floating closer, she still didn't stop writing down the possibilities.

  1. Rowan is being secretly bullied by Merula, and the twat is refusing to own up to it. So she was extratwattish to divert from it and ensure I didn't figure it out. 
  2. Rowan is actually a centaur, as anyone who has ever seen her devour the meat at dinner would conclude an insatiable hunger for flesh. I shall uncover you, Rowan Khanna. I'm onto you. 
  3. The rest of the Slytherin house has been a bunch of prats, and Rowan fears retribution should she stay my friend. 
  4. Rowan is threatened by my immaculate charm, and has chosen to- Hmm, I'll come back to this one. 
  5. Merula and Rowan are secretly friends who probably just sit around and folly around like the dumb prats they are.

"It's not a _list. _It's a detailed report of the probable factors as to why two twats don't seem to appreciate how great a friend I am", she informed the Baron, who gave out a low-belly laugh. Everything went to shit, in an instant. Filch caught her and Ismelda putting Barky's inching powder in the Gryffindor polishing station and she got detention for the day.

Snape told Filch that this would have been avoided should the Gryffindors taken better care of their station, but what could be expected of a bunch of reckless hooligans. 

So, now she was counting down the time for her punishment to begin. Ismelda had been sent to pick out all the putrid spores in the Ariumboil plant by Greenhouse Three for Snape, while she had to dry them out one by one with only her hands because Filch said that magic would make it too easy. She had at least twenty more minutes before her hell began, Snape had just shrugged and put a charm on her wand that would alert him should she use it. This was so unfair. The most unfair thing in the history of time. She didn't deserve this abuse. 

"Eva, you are one in a lifetime", the Bloody Baron told her. Ever since she and Merula had fallen out, he had been trailing the young Slytherin.

Of course she just had to go and play a trick on the Gryffindors. He didn't even think she had a reason outside of idle hands and some spare time. He didn't get many Slytherins so driven to jape when left unsupervised, or maybe he hadn't been watching closely enough. 

Today, she appeared extra upset once she heard of her punishment. After which, she seemed to focus all her ire in making a list for two people who had also wronged her.

Ironically enough, Eva had been pretending that those two didn't exist. Rowan Khanna, the Ravenclaw, appeared to have taken it for the worst. She'd flinch when Eva walked past her in the hallways, not sparing her a second glance as if she was a ghost she could walk through.

Merula, however, gave as good as she got. She'd shoulder-check Eva in the Common Room, put firegillys in Eva's potion, jinxed her broom so it flew past her and into a tower. Madame Hooch had to go fetch the broom, only to come back to the entire Gryffindor section with red patches, crying out about it itching so much it burned. 

Ismelda, the coward, had asked her if maybe they put too much on the brooms, and as the stars would have it, Filch heard her then, and hence she was now in her present dilemma. 

The Baron unfortunately missed the spectacle playing out in real time, having been presently occupied by listening to the romantic woes of a sixth year Greengrass. _Slytherins causing chaos_? It's like he could hear himself being summoned to the castle grounds. Everyone had been so occupied with the mayhem that they didn't notice how the bi-speckled girl looked on to the figures arguing next to the broom stations and then scurried away.

Had it been anyone else he would've swooped in and chastised over losing points to the House and making a mockery of their good name. Insulting the Slytherin name by getting caught. Pft. 

The issue was that he knew her. Eva had told him about the letters that Rowan and her sent each other before Hogwarts, and about the odd bond that Merula and her had had.

And he was having a hard time unraveling her actions. Perhaps a part of her relished in seeing Rowan so affected by her coldness. Perhaps it was the Slytherin in her that wanted to hurt before they could be hurt. Or perhaps, it had been the Rosier, so proud and unapologetic in their convictions. 

Or it could also be that she was confronted with the bitter realization that the people around her weren't who she thought they were. Whatever it was, he wanted to see it though. 

There were so many things that he wondered about this young witch. But he would just watch for now. He'd watch her, like he watched over all his Slytherins, with distant amusement, but despite that, he saw in them his favorite parts of humanity. The unstoppable will to achieve, the innate talent so many of them possessed and the ones who didn't that just worked twice as hard to get there too. For him, Slytherin was about wanting more. Whatever _more_ meant to them. 

As all things in this world, he had learned, there came a time when a shoe would drop. And unfortunately, for Slytherin, it came in the form of the post First Wizarding War trials, or how most people remember them the "Death Eater Trials". After them, the Baron had turned more vigilant. Stifling the laughter and jeers and taunts aimed at defenseless children, _they're my children, _he thought as he chased off fifth years that had cornered an underclassmen. Six against one. 

He had listened to the whispers, "did you see them?" "Yeah! I bet they're all just baby Death Eaters" "I heard that both of Snyde's parents are in Azkaban" "I heard that Rosier's brother ran away so he wouldn't be sent there too". 

Two of his little first years, Rosier and Snyde. He had seen a great many Snyde in the Slytherin green, and Rosiers were almost defacto sorted here. But even for them both, this was unprecedented. These children laughed, and raced each other through long and winding halls; they spoke to portraits and visited elves at the kitchens. Admittedly, most of this was due to Eva dragging Merula along, but you could see that she enjoyed the adventures.

Over the weeks, the Baron had watched them run off to discover the castle, its hallways, hidden passages, and trap doors. He saw them pass notes in the library and nearly burst out laughing from looking at each other's face.

They were so, so close. And now they weren't speaking, and Eva didn't appear one bit worried. Instead focusing on the Ravenclaw girl who was avoiding her. No, the Baron did not understand Eva's actions at all. 

\--------------

It had been a week, and Merula didn't think that Eva would have been able to hold out for this long. Usually, she would've been writing to her sister, right about now, while Merula went over the Potions class notes and prepared for the next day. However, now Eva would be gone for hours with not one of their roommates knowing where she could've bloody been. Merula makes an excuse here, another there. No one bats an eye. No one questions it, they were best mates, after all. Of course she'd know where Eva would be. At least, that was the collective assumption. 

But now Merula was worried, the winter break was coming up and she was somehow seeing less and less of a person that was in her same House, in the same year, who supposedly stayed in the same dorm room. If she even comes back to their room. Merula wasn't sure anymore. She had to stay up until 1 or 2 in the morning to even hear Evie come in, who walked like a ghost with light steps. Sometimes, fatigue would win out and she couldn't stay up until then. 

Also, to add insult to the injury, Eva would now sit with Lee during dinner, which even now Merula wasn't sure even why she'd do that. He was as dumb as a box of rocks. Was he really her replacement? From the start of the year, it had always been her and Eva. She'd occasionally drag Tuttle or Murk along with her, and now Merula suspected that all four of them were friends. _Ugh, how did I let this happen? _

In the beginning, Merula had panicked, paired with a girl who insisted they walk to class together, who didn't shun her in public, or attempted to weasel her way into a favor. No, Evie wanted to hang out, she wanted to eat vanilla cake with caramel frosting, she wanted Merula to stop doing the wrong motions in Transfiguration class. And the worst was how she made her feel.

She hadn't expected Evie to unwittingly begin the processions to courtship, or how she ended up reacting to it. One day, she'd laugh it off and tell Evie that it took her two weeks before she came to the conclusion that she hadn't intentionally showed interest. She was just being herself - big, infuriatingly expressive and all but absorbed her into her life. Not that Merula suddenly stopped terrorizing the Mudbloods; she hadn't. Just because Evie was all sparkles, didn't mean Merula would mold to that too.

No, she just liked being around her. And then she had felt that spike of jealousy when Evie had brought up Rowan Khanna. She could admit it to herself now. In the night, after everyone was away from view and no one could hold it against her. Something reared its ugly head and bared its fangs at the prospect of someone else with Eva. Taking her time. Being important enough to make her concentrate on them.

In fact, Merula did know her. The girl. That annoying Ravenclaw. She regularly tormented her. Khanna had made the list despite being a pureblood because she was an annoying know-it-all that never shut up. In History of Magic, you seldom heard any other voice but Binns and Khanna. So yes, it's true that it grated Merula's nerves that Evie would mention her. With all this urgency, and _interest, _ugh she couldn't explain it.

All this, the friendship with Evie, the closeness to another person, somewhere along the line, it had started with a misunderstanding. And notwithstanding, had Merula had someone to write like Eva always did, maybe she would've mentioned how something had sizzled in Merula like butter on a hot skillet, in that moment, but she didn't. And even if she did, she still couldn't admit certain things aloud, even if just on paper. 

She had been having too much fun. And now, she had lashed out. So she was not surprised with the growing animosity between her and Evie. Now, Evie showed her a level of spite that Merula was normally giving to others.

_But Lee, really?_ Merula was convinced that the world had turned on its axis. Surely Evie could do better than that placeholder. 

With a fiery glare that burned holes into the side of Lee's head, as Evie laughed, and pumpkin juice poured out of Lee's nose. Merula wondered how she managed to lose to him. 

Despite the burning rage at the sight of him, something settled in Merula as she saw them speak in hushed tones to each other. This was because she was glad it meant that at least Evie wasn't alone all of the time when Merula couldn't see her.

As Slytherins, they traveled in packs as a rule. Being a disliked House, they took precautions. Especially for the first years, their prefect had said,_ make sure to never go anywhere alone. _

After the Death Eater trials, the attacks on Slytherins by other Houses increased exponentially. Gone were the duel days, now what were left were cruel teenagers taking out their anger of the war on little kids. And Merula knew cruelty; she knew lashing out and unthinking rage. But she didn't want Evie to know it too. 

After dinner, everyone had retired to their beds, and Evie was missing. Still.

Once again, Merula prepared to go to sleep. She closed the curtains of her four-poster bed, and began to recite the protection spells her mother taught her. If someone tried to open the curtain, an alarm would alert her immediately. It's not like she'd be able to fall asleep, it was one of those nights were she'd try to remain awake to hear Evie walk in. If only to ease her worries. 

Regardless of the tension in her shoulders, the knowledge that the spells were up gave her a sense of safety. Even in Hogwarts, in the pit of the Slytherin den, Merula still sometimes felt out of place and uneasy. 

In those nights, she'd read books that her parents would be very upset over. But they were too interesting, and also the only way she found herself not thinking about Evie. 

These books that she hid away from everyone were her greatest shame - Muggle mystery novels.

Her mother would die on the spot if she knew, and she didn't want to imagine what her father would do. Perhaps disown her, or exile her somewhere far, far away.

"Mer? Are you awake?", Evie whispered from her side of the room. And the shock of her speaking to her made immediately Merula close her book and hide it away with the others before putting down the spells and opening her curtains. She hadn't heard her ghost walk in tonight. Perhaps too immersed in her thoughts.

"What do you want, Rosier?", it didn't matter that she had been hoping that Evie would get over being upset with her, her pride didn't allow her to be kinder to the friend that she so sorely wanted back. 

"You're a bloody twit who can't apologise for the life of her but there isn't anyone in the world that I want to show more. So put aside all your pratness and come see this", she waved Merula over. In reality, Merula wanted to say no. To tell her to get lost, and before Hogwarts and their time together, the knee jerk reaction to attack would've won. But now, she was more swayed at having Evie back, at least for a moment. 

"Alright, fine. But this better be good, you twat", already halfway on Evie's bed. 

An old looking scroll of parchment, "what's this?", no different than the ones Professor Bins had for History of Magic. 

"It's a scroll, it's not my fault you're so bad at identifying objects", Evie mocked, and Merula narrowed her eyes. _Is that why you're so upset? , _she thought briefly. Perhaps Merula had discovered a hidden insecurity and this had exacerbated her anger over such a small, tiny matter.

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be", elbowing Evie away from the parchment, she started reading. "Prat", she heard mumbled. Reading over the parchment and stopping cold, Merula was nearly speechless. 

"There's a treasure hidden in Hogwarts?", Merula asks aloud to no one in particular, looking dazed. "Would you believe it?", Evie said excitedly, behaving more like the person she knew than she had all week long, "I heard that Jacob was after it". _Oh Jacob, _Merula thought briefly. Eva never talked much about her brother, always keeping details brief and steering conversations away from him.

"Let's go find it", with so much conviction, Merula wasn't sure that it had been her who said it. "Me and you, treasure hunters extraordinaire!", Eva announced. Paying no attention to the two sleeping girls in the room. And for the first time in a week, Merula thought that everything was going to be alright. 

"I was stuck in detention, **again**. This time I had to reorganize these old letters from like ages ago for Filch. The guy is _so_ disorganized, he puts Lizard to shame", Eva began recounting, in a lower voice. And Merula felt all her attention directed to her. 

"Anyways, I found this, and after I nicked it, Filch was tearing down the filing room looking for something. I, of course, offered to help since I wanted to know why he had been carrying on in that way", she animatedly retold, Eva didn't appear like it had been a week since they last spoke.

"So you just walked out with a whole parchment? He didn't even check you on your way out? Serves him right for losing it then", Merula said, looking straight at Evie, who was nodding. "You're absolutely right. But he actually patted me down, before letting me go. So there's a chance he isn't as dumb as he looks", her eyes shining.

A small smile playing on Merula's lips. "Mer, at least Snape wasn't involved this time, so Filch couldn't push to have him put that stupid spell that alerts him if I use my wand. Not that a wand would've helped me with sorting old junk, I don't know any spell that does that anyways". 

"I used Reducio on the parchment and stuffed it in my hair, then Engorgio when I got to the girls bathroom. After that I ran all the way here, had to sneak in past the _Perfect Prefect_, Melinda, who was doing her rounds early", she said in one breath, and for the first time, Merula noticed the light sheen of sweat over her forehead, and the frazzled look in her hair. Her eyes began trailing her face, mapping it all in her mind. 

"How did you manage to not get a giant parchment from Engorgio?", the first thing she thought of asking. A bit scared that if she allowed for silence the spell would be broken.

"I've been practicing. You can control the size if you stop solidly and have good form. The first time, I accidentally made Tabitha's bonnet the size of a bed throw. She didn't stop harping about it for days, even after I got it back to the normal size", Evie huffed, clearly put off over this. In that moment, Merula wondered when she did this, and how long she had been practicing. The spells were more advanced that the Wingardium Leviosa and Lumos that they were currently learning. 

"You do have a tendency of causing that reaction. Have you tried to become more tempered?", somewhere along the way, Merula had picked up certain speaking styles from other Slytherins.

"Bugger that. What would be the fun in that?", rolling her eyes and laying down. "I don't think I can sleep knowing that there's a tre-", Merula clamped her hands on Evie's mouth, who tried to say something anyways. Her blue eyes showing a familiar spark of anger. 

"The less people who know, the better. Or have you forgotten that there's two other people in this room", her eyes widened, and after this Evie relented. "See? Someone has to be the brains of this operation, and you're just lucky you have the best witch in Hogwarts on your team". She couldn't help bragging, that exaggerated eye-roll was worth it. Merula was grateful for this parchment that was pressing enough to cause a ceasefire between them. 

She allowed herself to think for a moment. Of what she had been holding on to. There was a magical poster gift-wrapped under her bed. Though Merula would never admit it, she was going to cave. And it was going to happen soon.

She had meant it as a peace offering. The poster was for Evie to paste it on her upper panel and see stars. It wasn't anything like the constellations on Evie's bedroom ceiling that she'd talked on and on to Merula about, but she was hoping that it would make her feel better if she ever felt homesick.

Merula had ordered it the day that Evie stormed off from the Black Lake. But every time that she was about to give it to her, something would keep her from apologising. Maybe one day, she'd gather up the courage for that. 

"We should go to sleep. We have Potions in the morning, and I don't see a world were Snape doesn't drown me in the cauldron if I come in late _and_ get my potion wrong", Evie all but threw herself dramatically on her pillow, feigning despair. 

"Maybe if you tried putting all those sensibilities you display in Transfiguration, you'd get the steps right", the other girl replied, getting up and moving to her bed. 

"Goodnight, prat", Merula called out, in the dead of night, no one could see her grinning. And she was thankful for that. 

She heard some ruffling and turning, and then, "Goodnight, twat", was heard from the other side of the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😗 😗 See ya, dearies.
> 
> Comment, if you like. I like to entertain the tomfoolery, so I'll reply.


	4. Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A harsh reminder puts a damper on Merula. While Evie is busy continuing her roundabout methods. 
> 
> Liz gets a little spotlight, as she deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were too many moods and thoughts that I wanted to present, so the POV moved from character to character. It's moved 3rd Party with a focus on this one and then that one.
> 
> At the start, at least. The rest of the chapter is following one point of view at a time. Well, I tried to do that.
> 
> \---------
> 
> I was supposed to publish this a long time ago, but it's finally here. I had it finished for like three weeks, but never got around to publishing it. 
> 
> And I will try to get another chapter out soon.

* * *

* * *

On the Slytherin table, there is chatter all around this morning. Owls now coming in parliaments to deliver mail throughout the hall.

Unsurprisingly, the Gryffindor table was being loud. One loud redhead having an entire conversation with another one at the other end of the table, by literally yelling over the white noise. 

Feeling he was already too tired for the day, Felix looked over at them, disdain clouding his face briefly. A clipboard in hand, too many tasks for the day. They were only a two weeks away from the winter break, so much to do. 

On the edge closest to the exit, all the first years sat. Felix could see them from where he was, near the middle. He took a headcount, he was tasked with babysitting them after all. And when they weren't little prats with existential crisis every five seconds, they weren't so bad. They had been good for the past few days and hadn't lost any points, which he was more grateful for than he'd let on.

Goyle had been riding his ass after some third years thought they were hot shit and decided to sneak into the Forbidden Forest - only to end up stepping in a trap near the entrance, and getting caught by Filch. Now McGonagall was breathing down Slytherins neck and Snape wanted heads to put on a platter.

In summary, Felix has had a tough few weeks and he appreciates how well-behaved the littles are being.

Even though, he'll never tell them. 

At the other end of the table, a copy of today's Daily Prophet falls on Evie's eggs, "guess I'm done with those". Grabbing her newspaper and looking at the cover, she saw that there was a new result for a Death Eater case. "Malfoy Imperiused in the War", on the headline. A dignified and remarkably complacent Lucius Malfoy in front of the Great Honors of Magic, covered across the front page. 

_I wonder if Mother will send the Malfoys her congratulations, _Evie thought, at first. Knowing her, she'd probably throw a party or send a tasteful [read: vain] gift. The Malfoys weren't as closely related to the Rosiers as the Blacks. Even though, if you looked hard enough, you can find how almost every pureblood family is related, in some way or the other. 

Narcissa Malfoy's mother was a Rosier, it meant that social propriety along with family ties that bound them together required for contact. 

As life would have it, somehow Genevieve had taken a liking to the young Malfoy couple, or better said, found a friend in Narcissa, who Evie found also had a tendency to drag her to shoping sprees and shoving elaborate [read: vain] little things to her. 

Evie sighed gloomily, already imagining how she'd have to play handbag for Genevieve and Narcissa once they were out of school. They'd find a reason to do some last minute Christmas shopping and her days of lazing around would be cut short. _Why does everything have to happen to me? _, she asked the picture of a half smirking Lucius Malfoy, burning holes into his quicksilver eyes. 

"Mother said that Millicent Bagnold was too weak willed for caving under the Light wizards demands of pureblood purging", Ismelda said over her porridge, after seeing Malfoy's ash blond head on the cover across from Evie. Somehow, Ismelda's words sounded like that of any of their families, from the looks of the first years. 

Yes, many of them had probably sat at dinner tables where the adults talked politics and they pretended not to listen. But absorbed the gist of it. These children were aware of which side they were expected to rake. And wasn't that saddenning - most of them weren't even twelve years old yet and they already knew they had roles to play. 

With the current political unease, appearances meant more than the usual. And right now, after the war, its casualties and trials and tribulations, the old bloods are upset with the current order of things. However, they are not the majority. 

They are not fools. 

"Our great lady, Minister of Magic surely has got better things to do than giving a full page interview on the results of this one widdle case", Evie said, an impish smile bordering her lips, while she folded the paper so Merula could see the article.

It's too early in the morning for Merula to pretend that she isn't in a good place to talk about the Trials. _You're lying. We all know it. And you're going to get away with it, _a bitterness setting in the heart of this twelve year old girl. 

"She's trying to win some brownie points with the old pureblood Houses that still remember how fervently she launched her holy war against their own", Merula's disinterested tone underlined a certain sharpness. 

_Oh_,_ right, _Evie carefully looked over at Merula, who didn't look back. Clearly, Merula could feel those blue eyes gazing into her profile with concern. _Are you okay, _they seemed to ask.

And Merula cased herself in the same stifling air she had when she had been ready to walk out of their compartment on the train.

Perhaps this was a coping mechanism of hers. Keeping herself at bay, only by enforcing a distance between herself and everything in sight. 

Somehow, this hurt to see. Evie didn't know what she could say to Mer. She had spent a lifetime watching the social wonder known as her mother work her magic and it meant that she _knew _what Mer meant. It's _why him?, _it's _why is the world so unfair?_But she didn't know what to do about it. 

It's so out-of-body, being on the other side of grief.

"Why is this even relevant? Does it say anything about the Ministry's decision on the vampire accused of assault in Sussex?", Lizard exclaimed. Evie had to blink in order to buy herself some time, Liz collapsed her railroad of thoughts, and so she just looked back at the paper.

Actually actively searching for whatever small corner the Ministry must've pushed to have this piece of news shoved to. She wasn't as naive as Liz to think so highly of a human organization. Magical or not. 

But nonetheless, she'd entertain it, _maybe it'll take Mer out of her slump_, "only you would be more concerned with a vampyre than with the fates of fellow wizards". 

Evie didn't think she'd ever get used to Lizard's overzealous devotion to magical creatures. _What would she do without us?, _she asked Merlin, or the stars or fates. Whoever it was that was listening. 

Even if no one else noticed, Evie was very much aware of how the student body saw Liz. The resident odd ball that was prone to explosions of emotion in defense of creatures.

And Evie thought that regardless of her lack of poise, at least Liz didn't carry around the Death Eater stamp on her forehead that Mer and her did, but there were always looks. Sometimes she'd even catch older house mates give Lizard a look, and she'd feel her hands grab at her robes and steer her away. 

But Liz didn't need to know that, "It says his trial was pushed to next week", she continued in a bored tone. Today wasn't her turn to take her on, anyways. 

"This is ridiculous! It's the third time the trial was pushed back. He is entitled to due process, just as anyone else", a certain fire burning in Lizard's brown eyes that set alight her whole face. Evie didn't look up to the girl across from her, _every bloody day it's something. _Eyes searching for a sign at the ceiling, only seeing the morning's sky charmed above. 

"It's your turn today, Gudgeon", Merula accusingly whispered over Barnaby Lee, who busy stuffing two buttered scones in his mouth. If she intentionally shoved Barnaby into almost falling off his seat, then blame physics. Or whatever nonsense Evie had started talking about in Flying Class. 

At the reluctant groan from the boy next to Barnaby, Merula rolled her eyes and moved to turn the page on her copy of the Daily Prophet after it fell over her orange juice and spilled over the table.

Without missing a beat, Evie waved her wand, absentmindedly cleaning the small-scale disaster.

_How are you even in Slytherin?, _Merula thought, looking at Lizard under her lashes. She inches closer to Evie, her left thigh pressed against the other's. Instead of reacting, Evie just continues looking at her newspaper. 

Despite this, Evie notices how Merula's eyes flash with expression, more put on annoyance than anything, and even catches, "bloody twat", which Mer did not even trying to mutter.

Evie does not mention it, nor does Ismelda who checked herself out of the conversation as soon as magical creatures were mentioned. It wasn't her turn today either. 

But Liz didn't even let it faze her, too used to Merula's callousness by now. All of them were becoming used to Merula's thorns. Still she didn't notice the shift in their group to make space for her to speak basically directly to Gudgeon. He didn't look up until the silence had risen up to nearly awkwardness, and Ismelda stomped his foot nearly hard enough to leave her imprint on it. 

"Ouch", he said, jumping with the little dignity he could. Gray eyes accusing the goth prat of every injustice ever done to him. He clutched his robes close to himself, and straightened his spine. Only to slump back. 

Resigned, Michael Gudgeon scooped his cream of wheat with a spoon and let it sludge back into his bowl, "its trial being pushed back is a small mercy. The Ministry will make an example of the creature anyways, after all". His round face never moving towards Liz. He didn't feel like entertaining it today. She'd gone preaching for weeks now, and Michael was just not up for it. He had a quiz for Potions and his head needed all the space it could have to store all that useless data. 

Just because he drew the short stick today didn't mean he deserved to be on the other side of a righteous sermon by the one true savior of magical creatures. 

"Make an example?", Liz said, and of course there was a gasp after her exclamation, he rolled his eyes. She was upset. And he just wanted to jump into the Black Lake with a heavy weight tied to his leg, so he could finally find the sweet release of oblivion. Yet he was here, but you didn't see him complaining. 

"I've read the whole dictations from court, I don't think he did it. Surely the Great Honors will see this". Something akin to righteous anger in her tone, and Evie wondered if she even knew how the Ministry worked. 

Barnaby's grandfather was a magistrate at the lower magical courts. She was sure of it. On the summer when Jacob went missing, Genevieve began dragging her out and once they visited the private quarters behind the courts. There was a portrait with a young woman and Barnaby in the picture. He looked away to the side, shuffling away and the lady whispered something to him that made him smile on cue. 

She would bet that this lady had been his mother, and even he offered no apparent intention to enter in the conversation. He was either too daft or too clever for that, Evie was still trying to figure that one out. 

One look at Michael and she knew he was minutes away from attempting self-euthanation. So in the spirit of not having to report to Felix the death of student, she decided that it was up to her to bring Liz back to the plane of reality, _you owe me so bad Michael Gudgeon,_ she turned to respond. 

"I'm afraid you should be awoken to the realities of our legal system, Liz-laz. The chances that his case will make it to the High Court are slimmer than surviving a dragon search hike in Bran, Brasôv with nothing but good intentions", Evie thought someone should tell her that in the real world, no one cares about a vampire. Former wizard or not. One day she would, not today. But one day. 

She did not feel particularly cruel today. Who knows tomorrow or some distant future, but today she would not burst her bubble - completely. 

"Then how come Malfoy beating his case out of Azkaban is worthy of the High Court?", Liz sounded irritated now. _A vampire with no money or connections next to a man with one of the greatest fortunes in Britain? How is one the same as the other? _

"Because Malfoy is a well-connected, high-standing pureblood wizard. Whether or not he was actually imperiused is not as important as how it looks in the media. The Ministry doesn't want to alienate its biggest benefactors - old school magical families with a lot of galleons. Death Eater or not, he's worth more than a lowly blood sucker. It's just how it is", Edilvertus Goyle, their Head Boy, answered. He had been going around the table checking on the students when the conversation caught his fancy. 

Evie was saved having to say the same to her friend. More relieved to see Edilvertus than she had ever been.

He smiled at her and it read in his eyes that he remembered her. Just as she remembered all of the children dragged to the same balls and extravagant parties by their parents, where they would be relegated to a room away from the grown ups and those considered grown up enough.

Michael and Ismelda were at some of those parties. They never spoke, just acknowledged each other's existence. It was a polite kind of acceptance. And they all knew what Edilvertus meant when he said that to Liz, _"it's just how it is_". 

Come to think of it, she never saw Liz at any of these events, or Barnaby for that matter, or even Mer. It was odd that she never saw Mer.

The Snydes. They were pretty known, as an old magical family. Not as old or wealthy though. Or pureblood. As most of the sacred twenty-eight, would claim. Many of the families listed there weren't necessarily purist who preached blood status and yada yada, but some were. Evie knew theat much. 

And the fact remained that there had always been rumours about the Snydes. But they were still known in the magical community. They were recluses who didn't interact habitually with the rest of their society, and this was not overlooked by the socialites that missed no transgression. Real or imagined. 

As far as she knew, when they were arrested for their involvement in the war, no one was surprised. And what did that say about them? 

Evie had spent years learning about magical families; a requirement if she wanted to survive her time at the old Someries Castle with her grandparents. Shivers ran over her spine at the thought of having to go _there_. She'd almost throw herself at the feet of a shopping-binge frenzied Genevieve to avoid that dreadful option. 

Mostly everyone knew each other or of one another in the magical community of the United Kingdom. To think about it, Edilvertus was old enough to have perhaps known Jacob. 

"Any Slytherin worth their salt would know that immediately", Evie said under her breath, now looking at the comic section. It was the appropriate thing to say, so she said it. Since no one else seemed to want to. A gleam in the Head Boy when she said, she looked back at him. _If this is some secret test, what's it for? _

"Rosier is right. You _should _know this. It's basic pureblood politics", Edilvertus leaning on Barnaby Lee's side, obviously content to continue schooling this first year.

His smile turned sharper, too much teeth to be anything close to friendly. But not threatening enough to be noticeable to someone not looking for a power play. 

Liz, on the other hand, didn't want to believe what she was hearing. "Eva, certainly you don't believe that poor Whitnash will be sentenced just because he's not a wizard?", Liz asked, voice wavering, inching across the table close to her friend, and Evie looked over to her then. _You called the vampire by his name, _it was odd how this surprised Evie. To do this in front of Edilvertus, she was either gutsy or foolish. Evie couldn't decide which. 

Without preamble she answered her anyways, _better it be me, _"I hate to break it to you, but it's obvious that he's going to get executed. There's no prison for dark creatures. And the victim in that case is a Rowle, who is related to Great Honor Faustus Rowle. So yes, I do believe that he will get sentenced regardless _because_ he isn't a wizard". And the anymore is left unsaid. 

Eva wanted Liz to understand. In _their_ world, everyone was not measured by the same ruler. 

"Very good argument, Rosier", Edivertus says nodding, "and Tuttle, you'd stand to learn a thing or two from her", then leaves to check on the rest of the underclassmen. 

_That had nothing to do with Lizard being a half-blood, _Merula thought darkly, still refusing to engage or look at any of them. 

For the most part, Liz looks shocked. It was perhaps the second time, they'd ever even been before the Head Boy, and he'd just told her that everything she cared about didn't matter.

Something in her posture snapping in itself. "You can't possibly believe that they'd waste a Great Honor's time with a vampire's case?" Ismleda interjects, and Lizard's initial fire extinguishes from her eyes.

Evie only wonders if Ismelda never got social conditioning to understand not to kick a man when he's down. _What am I going to do with her? _

This is the moment when Liz realized that humanity is much too cruel. And this poor vampire. He will be put to death because he happened to be at a street where a man was beat to an inch of his life.

This man being a wizard, who was still at St Mungos receiving medical treatment.

This man was alive. Would most likely stay alive. While _he_ awaited death over something he didn't do. She was certain. It couldn't be him. 

None of the tests showed that Whitnash appeared to have any connection to the assault, beyond crossing that street on that day at that time. But he was someone to blame and he would do just fine. 

Merula sulked during the rest of the breakfast, a reminder of her parents trials and sentences. She didn't think they deserved it then. Even now, it left a sour taste in her too-dry mouth to even think about it. 

\---------------

Evie had too much energy for some reason all of a sudden, and Merula had not gotten over her foul mood from the morning. Despite Evie vibrating next to her, and pulling her here and there. She goes, moves on autopilot and for the most part Evie is kind enough to not mention it. The day progresses as many before. 

At Charms class, she blinks as the page of her textbook catches flame. _Fire. Where did-? _Her partner on the other side of the room, fixing some boy's posture and doing motions for him to follow. Merula was convinced that Flitwick let her loose because she was actually _really good_ with proper form. _Must be from all that side practice she's been doing. _

Professor Flitwick swoops in, and puts out the fire. "Miss Snyde, is there a reason for your lack of attention today?", he says, his voice breathing authority and disapproval. She shakes her head and avoids looking at him. He seems to accept this as her only answer. Fighting the need to scratch her left cheek, she does not answer. 

Flitwick nods and taps her page with his wand, "please be so kind as to try today's new spell". 

She nods shallowly, and he moves on quickly to help the pink haired freak who had smoke coming out of her entire desk. 

Merula risks a look to Evie again, who seems to be in her element. After being called out, her heart is pounding and half of her face has an invisible itch pestering her. She ignores it as best as she can. 

"Are you going to stop staring at Eva?, Michael Gudgeon asks, half of his upper body on the desk as he's pushed up against it straining to invade Merula's personal space. 

"I'm not staring at Eva, Gudgeon", she replies, sharply. Turning her body towards her textbook, effectively ending the conversation. Staring at the page, she blankly blinked at the charm, trying to will herself into understanding. _If only Eva came back and-_

"Yes, you so are looking at Eva", he says. And it should be known that Gudgeon never learned how to whisper. But now he was being purposefully loud. Something akin to fear spikes in Merula's ribs and force her to breathe shallowly. 

Her eyes looking to the silver haired girl on the other side of the classroom. She was laughing now, after having assisted with whatever caused that Hufflepuff to make her desk smoke up. The pink haired freak put a hand on her shoulder, and Merula gripped her quill.

"See? You _so are_-", she put her hands on his mouth to stop him from talking.

"Another word and I will strangle you in your sleep", she whispered menacingly. Her purple eyes burning with promise. He nodded quickly, and jerked back when she let go.

"Why are you-", he started again, only to be stopped by a chilling glare. _Will you just stop? _

"Could you be any louder?"

Ismelda Murk, to her credit, just waved her wand and practiced the motions of the spell. "You are terribly bad at whispering", she said, beginning to see how the flames swirled around her wand, "and you have been staring at Eva for the entire class". The fire danced slowly to the wand's moves, following the lead of its magic . "Extinguo", Ismelda said, and the flame on her candle went off. 

_Candles, _Merula thought. Noticing the candles at the centre each desk. _Today we're doing the Extinguishing Charm, _her mind provided. She noticed her candle was on, _couldn't she do this one first. _Merula wondered how she didn't notice the flare of heat that she could feel pulsating now.

"First of all, I was looking out the window. Not at Eva. She's just in my line of view. Secondly, I don't know where you go off accusing me of things when all you ever do is stare off into the void that is Barnaby Lee", Merula whispers meanly. As she did most things - with cruelty. 

Ismelda's eyes widen, and she loses grip of her wand. Her embarrassment displayed across her face, Merula revels in this. Gudgeon intrudes, as he usually does, "so you both stare at people. That's great. The first step is admitting that you have a problem". 

The comment strikes Merula unexpectedly, and Ismelda, now recovered, says, "Piss off, Gudgeon". 

"5 points from Slytherin for Miss Murk's disturbing the class with her uncouth words", Flitwick says behind Gudgeon and Murk, seemingly having manifested out of thin air. "And a foot long essay on the properties of flammable ink, for Monday morning", he continues, Ismelda's face, looking paler than usual and eyes widened comically. Merula would laugh if she wasn't stricken with terror as well. 

She looked sickly, apart from the red tips of her ears. Her neck faring almost as bad. Merula would laugh if she wasn't stricken with mortification as well. _"Finally got some color on you",_ she'd say.

"As well as you, Gudgeon and Snyde. Since you both seemed engrossed in this private conversation. Behaviour that will not be tolerated. Am I understood?" _Twice today._

Merula slinks down into her seat, not saying a word. And Gudgeon lowers his shoulders, head down. "Yes, Professor", the three say. And Flitwick moves towards his desk. 

Merula slowly looks up, Evie is in her line of sight, catches her eye and weakly smiles, "I'll help you", she mouths. And then turns towards the professor and begins chattering. Probably asking about this type of parchment or that candle wax properties. He looks properly distracted and Merula appreciates that. 

But she still wants to drown all two of these idiots, "I'm going to kill both of you one of these days", Merula whispers darkly, loud enough for the Slytherins behind her to hear. 

Lizard looks up at them, having missed all of the excitement already. 

"Yeah? Well, not if I kill you both first", Gudgeon responds, "it's not my fault you're both so _obvious_". Eyes rolled, and a petulant pout in hand. 

Ismelda shoves him, but never replies. 

_I was not staring at Eva_, Merula thinks. She really hadn't. She was just looking in that direction.

\----------

It's not until they're walking down the corridor near the Sick Bay that Merula realized she must've suddenly snapped out of autopilot again. Nearly toppling over on her friend, who had the foresight to clutch on a column. 

"If you aren't going to be looking where you're going, then I'm just going to start holding your hand wherever we go", Evie said, a huff of exasperation. Never losing that good-natured smile. Once again, she was kind enough not to point out the obvious. She reaches out to grab hold of Merula's hand. Her hands are warm.

Evie pulls her forward, and Merula goes. "S'not my fault ya make a better door than a window", Merula replies, smiling brilliantly to Evie's shoulder as she looks at their interlaced hands. 

Evie turned around, and rolled her eyes dramatically, her smile betraying her composure. "Wel-" 

Peeves flew threw the wall and knocked over some ornaments on a corner. "Hello Peeves", Evie called out. 

The poltergeist turned to her, and flew closer and then turned around them in circles, "And what do we have here? Ikkle likkle Firsties talking to Peevesy?"

Goosebumps breaking out on her arm at the sight of the poltergeist so close up, Merula turned to see Eva.

"I'd like to make a deal. I mean, if you're interested?", Evie said, mischief sparkling in her eyes. Merula pulls her closer, and whisper yells, "not that it's relevant now since you clearly won't listen, but how about we don't go around making deals with evil spirits?" 

Peeves floated upside down, closer to her. "Oh what's that? Rosie, Rosier, wants to play a game with widdle ol' me?"

"Filch is going to make a surprise search by the quiditch lockers around three today. And I have on great authority where some bitting frisbies are located in the castle. Surely you'd know of someone interested in all this knowledge?", Evie said, moving away from Merula.

Unsurprisingly, Merula looked to Eva and then the poltergeist and then again, only interrupted by his loud laughter. 

The tiny man wearing a green polka-dot suit, and orange bowtie, seemed to drown the entire corridor with his laughter. "Well, well, well. Isn't this a sly little Slytherin. And what would you want in return, little Firsty", he said, now flying in circles in the air. 

Peeves is facing off with Eva, who Merula can tell is pretending to be calm. But she sees the shaking in her fingers barely visible due to her robes. _Why are you doing this? _

"In return, all I ask is that you snatch his keys for me", Evie said, and Merula's eyes snap to her at that moment. "You never said that's what we were going to do", she found herself saying. _Out of all the bloody shit you could've done, this is what you dragged me here for? _

Evie had roped her into one a-many pranks before, hell, she'd roped Evie into one a-many too. But what did she think, going after Filch's keys. If they were found with then, then what would happen? Would they be seriously punished? Expelled? Sent to the magical courts? 

"Oh no", Peeves said dramatically, "is the likkle Firsty scawwed of a little mischief?" spinning around Merula slowly, pouting. 

And yes, Merula could see he was goading her. She had to bite out _I am not scared,_ but instead said, "Eva, please tell me we're not going to do something ridiculously stupid just because you've finally lost it?" 

"C'mon, Mer", Evie said, that same impish smile from before. "What's the worst that could happen?" 

"It's official, she's gone mental", Merula said to herself. Having let go of Eva's hand before, now she stepped away. Trying to leave more physical space between them. 

"So, Peevester? Whatta say, we got a deal?", Evie says, and Merula is supporting her weight on the wall and wondering how her life choices led up to stealing keys from the caretaker of Hogwarts. 

"You have yourself a dealio, Rosio", Peeves says, broad smile and bad intentions. 

"Alright", she begins, "by the Room of Requirement, someone has been hoarding contraband that just so happens to be..." 

"Bitting bat frisbies", Peeves exclaims. Clearly excited over the idea of a prank. 

"We'll be by the Left Wing waiting on you with the keys", Eva tells him. And Merula has a mind to walk away, but she knows that she'll see this through with this absolute pillock. 

"You're on. I'd shake on it but I've got no hands", Peeves says, showing the sleeves of his suit with no hands, and flies into the wall he came in from. 

Waiting only long enough for Peeves to be gone, "What in the world is wrong with you? Are you truly so dense that you thought _that _was somehow a good idea?", Merula begins hurling at Eva, who flinches at the tone. 

"I, well, I. You know, we're gonna be fine. Come _on, _Mer. Peeves will cause a commotion and we'll get the keys. Filch will think he lost them during the tandem and we're in the clear", Eva says, nodding. Looking like she is ready to convince a grand jury of her client's innocence. 

"Okay, fine. Say that all goes according to plan. Then what? Do we keep those unholy keys? For how long? And what will we do with them?", and Merula is back on the offense. Looking for any holes in the argument. 

"No, today is Friday so everyone is pretty lax. So we have to go in tomorrow", Eva said. 

"Go in? Go where? I'm not sure I even want to know", Merula asks. Now the brunette is pacing, hands raking her head. Truly her hair looked worse for wear than usual but Merula was too busy having a friggen crisis, just _how _would she explain to her aunt when she got expelled from Hogwarts on her first year. 

"We're going to Filch's office?" "-Oh, hell no" 

"Hey, hear me out. We got to check for clues on the treasure. And our only lead right now is Filch. So we have to check to see if anything else points to where to look", Eva, trying on the voice of reason. Which would probably be more effective if it didn't look like she was trying to convince herself as well. 

Pacing harshly, she turned, "argh", Merula screams, "I hate you so much". And Eva looks to her beaming, with flowers and sparkles, "so you're in?", shoulders crouching, her face open and hopeful. 

"Did I even have a choice?", voice dejected. Merula knew she'd cave, it didn't make it any easier. 

"Not a chance. Now, c'mon. Let's get out of this creepy empty corridor", Eva says, "plus we have to go to the library and look into flammable inks. Flitwick gave me some pointers on where to find the best sources since apparently there's over seventy different books on that topic", Eva goes on and on, and Merula allows herself to be grabbed and pulled out of the hallway and towards the library. 

They walk, hand in hand. Getting stares hear and there, nothing they weren't already used to, at this point. Merula heard the whispers though, and moved towards the front and pulled Eva along.

Merula had work to do. 

_That stupid punishment, _"have I mentioned that I hate you?", she says with no inflection. _I still have to do a bloody essay because of Gudgeon and his big fat mouth. _

"You don't mean that", she gets back. Settling into table, "I'll go look for some books. Take out your quill and parchment, I'm sure we can get this done before Saturday evening". _So bossy, _she thought. Slumping in her chair, and pushing up the sleeves of her robes Merula looked up at Eva and it was apparent that she hadn't brushed her hair today. The white curls were a matted mess that she must've wrestled into a ponytail. 

"Yeah, whatever", she responded, taking out her wand and using it to pull out a quill, ink and parchment from her pocket. Trying not to focus on the other girl too much, and Eva must've took that as acceptance to her plan, nodded and walked towards the book shelves. 

As she was moving away, Merula looked up to her. Matted or not, the long curls still bounced along her back with every step.

This was something she did sometimes.

Ever since they started spending more and more time together, Merula noticed she had spent a long time looking at Eva's hair. The stark white contrasting her skin. How she'd curl the ends in her fingertips when they'd lay under the trees near the Black Lake, or when she was idly not listening in class. 

Sometimes she'd be standing next to her, and something, maybe the smell, perhaps, would remind Merula of her mother's prized orchids, _Miltoniopsis Herr Alexander. _Maybe they were just for spells, or maybe they really were one of the few things Avaranthia Snyde perhaps loved. 

In mornings when she'd wake up extra early, she'd find her mother singing to the orchids. 

Merula shook her head, willing the images of of white petals and singing mothers out of her mind. The sting of unshed tears burn her eyes, and she willed herself into composure. _Remember, you have to be strong. _Brushed the sleeve of her robe across her face and took a deep breath. 

Coming over and putting down the books, "So, I found these three. It's a good start, Madam Pince said these had the most comprehensive information on ink. Unfortunately there isn't a content list naming each property so we'll have to comb through them, and-", Eva stops short of herself and moves to sit next to Merula, instead of across like she H as d before, "dearie, are you okay?" 

Merula stares at her, trying to come to grips with this version of her best friend. She had never actually verbally acknowledged any of the past chips in her armour and Merula thought they had a system. _You're supposed to not ask. So I don't have to lie. _

"What? Of course, I'm fine. What are you talking about?", moving to the side and sliding the chair along. Putting space between them. "So you mean to say I have to read all of this?", gesturing to the books in front of her. 

"Yes. But, but Mer. Your eyes are red", Eva said, in a soft voice. Much weaker than she'd ever heard her speak before. 

"What this? I think it's just allergy season for me", Merula said, smile broadening with every word, while she imaged any series of events where they don't continue this conversation. 

"Oh, okay then. I guess you can start with The History of Magical Inks and I'll do A Record of Inks Near and Far", quickly moving into them into working position and checking her wrist watch to make sure they still had time before having to go collect the keys from Peeves. 

"I have to read the _history _of _ink_ while you read a _record _of random stuff they used to write with. How is that fair? You're bound to find the times when they used crazy stuff like human blood and ear wax", voice heaving in exasperation, making it obvious she was annoyed. Merula had annoyed down to a science. It was safe to feel annoyed. And she could play it up. Eyes rolling to add to the over-the-top performance. 

"The _fair_ thing would be to not help you at all. It's _your _punishment, after all", taking up a posh air. Eva's lips twisting lightly into a small smile. 

Something dropped, and both their eyes moved to the source. Rowan had fallen off of the ladder, it appeared. "Just what did you do, young lady?", that stern voice had to belong to Pince. 

Merula mimicked Rowan since they were too far to hear anything, "I'm terribly sorry. I must've slipped", voice too high and obnoxiou. Regardless, Rowan was indeed already apologising despite being the _possibly _injured party. 

"She is such a loser", Merula says, a sneer overtaking her face. And Eva looks back at Rowan, who is quietly speaking and getting up. 

Merula looks at Eva, a look on her face she had never seen before. A weighed composure, as if she's considering all of her options. Suddenlysshe looked older, "Let's start before we end up being late to our date with the evil spirit", Merula says, pushing a book towards the other girl. Looking for something to carry her eyes away from that annoying know-it-all who nearly cost her her best mate weeks ago. 

Snapping out of her spell, the impassive look melts into a good-natured grin, " 'Course, we have to start somewhere. And do you really have to call him an _"evil spirit"? _He's a poltergeist, you see. They're tricksters, not actually evil. You'd know that if you had read a Guide to Ghost, Ghouls and Spirits. Professor Binns suggested it and when I wrote Father telling him, he _insisted _that I read it". 

"You could've I don't know, _not _mentioned the additional reading Binns suggested. It's not like anyone was forcing you to even speak to that old specter. But lo and behold, like always you _had _to go and talk to everyone", Merula is settling in her chair again, one elbow on the table and all her weight pushed to that surface. 

Now in History of Magic, there was another person speaking. It was fine though, more time to throw glower balls at unfortunate idiots sitting at the front. 

"But Mer, if I don't get top marks in History of Magic then that means Khanna wins that one. I got to beat her in every subject", Eva says, white eyebrows creased, face telling that this is the most obvious thing. And sure, Merula smiles. _Now that is a Slytherin. _

"Your potions work is dreadful. You're behind even Murk, and that is saying something", she can't help but say. Part of Merula was threatened by Eva's admission that she wanted to outscore Khana. _She_ had always wanted to be the best. But part of her was proud of this open opposition. 

Merula began thinking about every possible moment before this, _had she always felt like this? _

"Yeah, well, you're Snape's favorite and he hates me", these words bring her out of her thoughts. 

"What does that have to do with me?", she snaps. More aggressive than she intended, but this is a definite insecurity of hers. Not being good enough. And she is implying that she only does well because she was Snape's pet.

It was a dagger to the heart. Blood in the snow. 

"You have like the highest grade in Potions in the entire year. I have accepted that Potions is your domain. But in History, Charms, and Transfiguration, I am so killing it. Well, Ben could top me if I'm not careful in Charms. And I'll probably score pretty high in Herbology too, but you've mostly got me beat there too anyways", Eva says, eyes skimming though the book's page. 

Something about that made Merula feel worse. _She won't compete with me? _

"It looks like you have it all figured out". 

\-------------

"This is the last time", Merula said, pacing around the supply closet. As much as it allowed with their limited space. 

"The last time I let you drag me into the jaws of death. Behaving like", she continued, exasperated, "some bloody _Gryffindor_". One thing was wandering around the castle like normal students. 

But _this. _This was taking it too far. They were _Slytherins _for fucks sake. They thought first and then acted. Considered every possible course of actions before deciding on what to do and definitely didn't walk into the monster's mouth for no bloody reason. 

"You're being dramatic", Evie said, catching her breath after having to make a run for it, after Mrs Norris nearly picked up on their trail. Her hair now puffy from the sweat and cold night air, Merula reckoned she must not look that great either. 

Clear blue eyes look up at her and she's certain that she should've left her behind in that hallway. 

"So I _didn't_ nearly get strangled by fucking devil's snare? ", Merula answered, clearly miffed. "Or chased down by that hellspawn that claims a cat's form? Or I know! It's not like we're trapped in a _bloody_ storage closet in some forgot side of this castle at two in the bloody morning", she yelled. Face red, and breath coming in pants. Yes, Merula was upset. That was apparent. 

At least, Eva had the decency to look remorseful, before answering with a sheepish smile, "and we _had __to. _You know that treasure awaits for no man. So we gotta knuckle up", Evie says, brushing off Merula's anger. "Besides, we found some cool new spots in the castle. I think today was a complete success", grinning like a mad man.

This weekend had been too long and even the competitive spirit in Merula couldn't keep her going after this. 

"You are out of your mind. Gone. Lost it", she tells her. Walking back slowly, away from Evie. "First, we steal Filch's keys and nearly have to jumped from the third story after Peeves screamed bloody murder after handing _us_ the keys. I thought Sprout was going to actually see us. And then, as if that wasn't enough, _you _come and say, _Hey, Mer, let's use the keys to break into Filch's office. _Because that's totally, completely sane", hands shaking while gesturing wildly, and beginning to pace again. 

"In my defense, you can't break in if you have the keys. And I thought we agreed on going to his office at the library which was _before _getting the keys", Evie replied, now the image of calm after apparently finally calming her breathing. "And we needed to check if he had any more leads for the treasure". 

"And you just _had _to include me into all this madness?", Merula asked the ceiling, having accepted that Evie was not apologising for putting her life in danger for the third time this week. 

"Of course. You and me, the perfect team", Evie says, stretching her arms over her head and popping her knuckles. _She noticed, _Merula decided. Stopping her pacing and slowly turning around. 

Merula had been off all week. After hearing about the results of the Malfoy trial, she could only think about her parents, and their trials. And everything that happened after. She knew this, but to think that this girl, literally. Argh. 

"You mean to say that you have been risking _my life_ for the past few days just because you wanted me to stop feeling-", she cut herself off to huff and pull at her hair. "You have _got t_o be kidding me. Evie, you are absolutely. You bloody. I can't", Merula felt the wave of care and concern swoop through her. 

Eva had been pulling her along on this insane adventure because she wanted to take her mind off of the Trials, her parents. To think that someone would go to these lengths. 

"What?", Eva asks, blue eyes widened, head tilting to the side in apparent confusion. 

"You did all this so I wouldn't be down about the Trials. But seriously, it's okay. I've had a lot of time to think about them, about it all. It just was a reminder. And maybe", her voice now wavering, Merula is looking at the door. She knows for sure she won't say it if she's looking at Eva's dumb face. 

"I may look pretty down now or sometimes because it's pretty hard. On some days. But on other days, there's not a cloud in the sky. And I know, I know I shouldn't say that. Still miss them every day. Yet I can't. I just, don't want to think about it some days", Merula continues, her voice strengthens. 

"So I just want to say thank you. For being my friend and always", Merula says, eyes watering but staying strong, and finally settles to turn around. Only to find a crying Eva. 

Sniffing, "that was beautiful", Eva said. Tears coming her cheeks, eyes red and nose runny, trying to wipe her face with her sleeve. 

Something softening in Merula's shoulders, "I thought this was supposed to be my moment of truth?" 

"You can have the next one", Eva says, voice hoarse. She breathes in, and appears to calm herself down after a few moments. "Right now, we need to focus on getting back to dorms before anyone notices we were gone". 

"Okay, so basically we're back to square one", Merula mutters. "You ready?", she asks, holding out her hand. Eva takes it, grip tight, and nods.

Together they run out, keeping to the shadows and hoping they'll make it in one piece. "We missed the staircase going down", Merula whispers, Eva pulls on her sleeve and points to the staircase moving to turn down and nods in that direction. 

"Oh holy Morgana", she curses, as they run towards that direction and jump on that staircase, barely keeping their feet on the ground. Eva almost falls, taking Merula with her. Their hands tightly held, the only thing keeping them together. 

They get off when the staircase settles and slowly tiptoe their way, keeping their backs to the wall. They passed the Hufflepuff's entrance and kept going. 

"What's the password again?", Eva whispers, her voice the only thing heard in the night. And she stopped stock-still so she must've felt that cold chill run down her back too as she shivered. 

"Manufestus", a cold voice called out behind them, and the doors to the Slytherin Common Room opened. "It appears you two have some explaining to do", Snape's voice drawled deeply with reproach and Merula looked at Eva, who swallowed visibly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional information, if you care to read it:
> 
> *Miltoniopsis Herr Alexander is a sweet smelling pansy orchid. Known for its pale white petals with "purple-eyes". Smells sort of like gardenias.
> 
> *Some words were made up on the fly, like the Extinguishing Charm and the Slytherin Common Room password. 
> 
> Extinguo is Latin for "annihate, extinguish" 
> 
> Manufestus is basically Latin for "caught, open, convicted, open".


	5. Charmed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dearies, I took too long with this one. 
> 
> I don't know if to abandon the game's plot steps entirely, or keep them. I'm still thinking it over.
> 
> \--------
> 
> PS: Do you think if I should add the poems Ismelda wrote to the story or post them separately?

* * *

* * *

Cold dread falling over her, Evie was very much aware of how this must look. But she had to think fast, since Merula looked frozen. _Excuse, excuse, what excuse do I use? _Mind whirling, she felt her head go completely blank for once, funnily enough. But regardless, she was going to speak. Someone had to.

"Hello Professor", and she was proud of how her voice only shook slightly. _You gotta do this Evie, _she thought, feeling the adrenaline still pumping in her blood and making her narrow down all that could be called focus. 

"Hello, indeed", Snape said, followed by a pause. He appeared to be enjoying making them sweat. "Now, why exactly are _you_ out of your rooms at this hour?", Snape said, showing no intention of moving.

A chill running down Evie's back, prickling her robed-arms with goosebumps. Still she turns to face him. Merula following, begrudgingly. Standing impossibly tall in front of them, he looks down at Evie steadily. His large, hooked nose crinkled in distaste. Evie's plan currently consisted of talking until she got them out of this. _Somehow, I have to do this._

"We were just...", Evie's mind spurred with any sort of plausible excuse. Nothing really was acceptable, by Snape's standards, but what could she say. _Divine inspiration, please strike me now._

"We just wanted to get a snack from the kitchens", Merula finished, not missing a beat. Without looking to Merula, Evie allowed herself to just feel her diaphragm constrict, _or lightning gods, please strike me down. _

Professor's Snape's wan face looked as unamused as ever. His dark eyes raking them in search of no doubt a lie. "Is that so?", he asked, pointedly. That sharpness, also no doubt intentional. 

A surge of the adrenaline spiking in Evie, at the empty silence that followed Merula's proclamation. "I woke up from a nightmare and, and I just wanted something sweet". Evie decided that it's best to blame it on herself, Snape would buy it. _Focus on me. I'm the problem child._ Keeping her voice animated, he would never buy nonchalance from her. 

He quirked an eyebrow, a frown on his thin lips, "And Miss Snyde is also here because..."

"She... Just...", Evie was patching up a story in her head, using pauses to buy more time. She was talking her way through this anyways, she'd figure it out. 

Just as the young Rosier was preparing to spin some tall tale, Merula beat to it. Again. "She woke me up. It was actually my idea to get the snack from the kitchens", Merula said in a hurry. Evie looked at her, eyes wide and awaiting a miracle. How could life be so cruel?

She interjected herself back into the narrative, "and then_ I_ actually dragged us there. _You_ know me, Professor. Can't go anywhere alone", Evie tried to make herself sound cheerful, add some old charm to her performance. He had accused her of corrupting the First Years by dragging them in her schemes. She was sure that this was within the realm of believable to Snape.

"I see", he said, solemnly. A damning tone in his voice, and her heart gripped tightly to the fear begging to waver her voice. He looked at her face, eyes narrowing. 

Then turned towards Merula, "is that true, Miss Snyde?" 

Evie was silently praying that Merula used that self-preservation she was always preaching at Evie, and take the out. She hadn't had detention all week but what's another stripe on a tiger? Certainly, Merula could come out of this unscathed. And Snape's detention was the worst, honestly, she would know.

Merula would be gambling her status as his favorite, if she got lumped in with her. Even more than she normally is. 

"Actually, no. The truth is...", Merula begins, and Evie felt her stomach do a death drop. _She won't actually say the truth-truth, will she? _

Chanting inside her head, Please_ don't do this. Please don't do this. Please- _"She's just saying that to protect me. It was my idea. And if anyone deserves to be punished for breaking the rules and being out after hours, it's me", Merula was straight looking at Snape. 

Worst of all, he looked back at her steadily. The same measuring air he had when looking at Evie, but so much worse. Merula stood up straighter, squaring her shoulders. Evie caught her profile, her face paling dreadfully, and the slight shake to her rob-concealed hands. Only her finger tips in view, and Evie griped her sleeves to keep from reaching out to her. 

"Very well. In that case, though this is unsurprising behavior for the ruffian that is Rosier, I expected more from you, Miss Snyde", he spoke, and his scowl deepened somehow. Evie felt herself flinch, and heard the caught breath by Merula. She would not mention it later.

Instead, Evie steeled her spine and willed herself to composure, if Merula could tell that to Snape's face then she could take this too. Lying straight to their Head of House was bad for her heart, but she could do this. In this moment, she didn't know what to expect.

Evie hoped, for use of a better word. She just hoped he wouldn't call them on their bluff.

"I suppose, I am to believe that you have finished this late night snack of yours", he said, looking down at the children before him, drawing up his robes dramatically. And they felt so childlike, so small. Evie could tell that Merula hated that feeling by the gripped fist, white knuckling she caught with the corner of her eye. 

"Well no... it's " "Yes, we already did", both answering at once, and then giving each other panicked, hurried glances before trying to settle themselves once more. Snape's dark eyes seemed to glow then and there. He looked to her as terrifying as Ben always said he was at that moment, "then you are both to return to your respective rooms immediately. And you will come down to the Potions Classrooms at four in the afternoon to scrub all of the cauldrons, for three days".

Evie took a chance and looked at Merula who appeared green at the thought of that, and sympathized, "understood, Professor", replying for the both of them. Merula nodded slightly, a shallow motion.

While, Snape gave no reply. His robes flying behind him. "I will be watching to ensure you go to your rooms this time", he said, his voice carrying over the empty hallway. She could've sworn he had eyes on the walls, and felt Merula take her hand and pull her forward. Without another thought, they bolted.

Merula whispered the password, and the dungeon doors open and once again, she pulled Evie in. The two girls spilled into the Common Room, heading straight for their room and being sure to be quick and quiet about it. Not brave enough to test their luck further. Even in the safety of the dorm room, those dark eyes seemed to silently judge them and it was enough to sail across each other like ships in the night and into their beds. 

\---------

Merula had collapsed on the corner foot of a table, only barely able to take some breaths without the stinging feeling of worked-out exhaustion overtaking her. "I can't feel my fingers", she said, looking at the wrinkled tips shaking in front of her. 

They had been hard at work, and they finally had a system down. There were twelve cauldrons per classroom, on average. Except for #3 and #5 that had eighteen. Luckily Snape didn't expect the cauldrons to be cleaned daily but just cleaned once, so with five classrooms it meant they each had to clean thirty-six. But as the days dragged on, they started rock, paper, scissor-ing. 

And Merula had lost. A lot. Mostly on purpose, which she couldn't explain why. But she kept it up. Seeing the little happy dance Evie did, somehow made it worth it. And so it went on for half an hour straight, until suddenly Evie was losing over and over and over. Being the sore loser that she was, refused to take it with dignity and grumbled about all the unfairness in the world while Merula tried to reign in her erratically beating heart and spasming arm muscles. Which she hadn't been aware she even had to begin with. 

"Why does everything have to happen to me?", Evie asked aloud. Sweat dripping down her face, white dress shirt sticking to her skin. She and Merula had been hard at work. At least the worst was almost over. Evie's curly hair looked frazzled in that wrestled ponytail and half-stuck to her face and neck. 

Merula looked at the white hair, at the tan skin. They had thrown off their robes on before starting after learning <strike>the hard way</strike> that the wool or cashmere that they were made of started feeling like heavy lead on their bodies after the second or third cauldron. Merula's white sleeves had been rolled up and Evie had reluctantly done so too, after noticing that the tips of hers had been soaked in the gross leftover concoctions they had scrubbed off. She could be so contrary sometimes. 

Across from Merula, Evie was half-bent forward into the cauldron attempting to scrub the bottom inside. "Don't overdo it. If you wear yourself out, I won't carry you to the dorms", Merula says, voice laced with reproach and spite. Her face was flushed from the hard labour and the rest of her was slowly cooling down.

"I'm almost done. No thanks to somebody", Evie retorted, though her voice was muffled from being upside down and in the brass cauldron. Merula could hear the eye-roll, and a slow smirk came alive on her face. 

The only apparent sound was the scrubbing Evie was doing. Maybe if she wasn't so out-of-breath tired, she would've laughed at how even though she knows that Evie is tired. Must be tired. And still, she wants to throw in a quip, _alright then. _

One last deep breath, and Merula pushes herself to sit upright. She closes her eyes and slowly feels her heart calming down, her lungs no longer grasping for air. Her back still sent sharp pains from days of being crouched over cauldrons and her neck and arms had seen better days. But at least she could passably inhale now, without feeling too aware of the motion. 

Merula let the room be consumed with the sound of scrubbing. The only magic they were allowed to use was to wash over the scrubbed grime and honestly, she was thankful Snape hadn't made them actually use water buckets. That would've been so cruel. Carrying the water alone would've been a nightmare. 

That small mercy, she would always remember.

The minutes piled on, and Merula rose slowly, stretching her arms over her head and cracking any bones that popped. With a sigh, she started heading for the exit. "Are you planning on hanging from that cauldron all day? Is this what what you're doing now?", that had been a version of how she asked Evie if she was done, like the other usually did when she finished first. Just not as politely as Evie tended to make it out. 

After crossing the room in leisurely pace, each move of the legs felt strained but getting easier. When Merula got to the door, she had her hand hovering on the knob. Waiting on Evie to tell her if she was done yet or she had to sit back down and wait. However, no quip came. No reply. Not even an acknowledging sigh. Just silence. 

Merula Snyde would be lying if she said that a familiar feeling of panic did not coil up in the pit of her stomach and begin to spring up, _is she upset? _

_"_Hey Eva?", Merula's voice full of question, and she would've thankful for the lack of desperation in its pitch if she wasn't so everlovingly nearing panic. 

No response. Eva appeared to just be laying there. "If you're mad about losing the draw on the last one, you don't have to be a baby about it. You can have my dessert at dinner", _tell me what to do. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do to not make you hate me again. _

_"_Mer?", and she feels her heart clench and holds her breath, _she's talking to me. It's not as bad as last time, "_I can't feel my legs". 

For a moment, Merula is just blinkly owlishly at the girl who hasn't turned her head, "or much of anything really. Just pain all over", Eva continues. And Merula finds herself grinning and closing her eyes in relieved gratefulness. 

She goes over to Eva and helps her up, "I don't reckon the dessert offer is still on the table, yeah?" And there she was, the damn opportunist she was, and Merula just says "whatever".

Most of her weight shouldered on Merula, Eva held on. One arm drapped over Merula's shoulders, while her other hand braced itself gripping her robes. Merula looked at her best mate closer now, _she feels warm. _

"This is gonna take forever", she mutters angrily, pushing them both into the hall. I_ should have just carried her. _

\----------

Inside the depth of the Slytherin den, five First Years sit on the abandoned tables in their Common Room, the chill of wintertime coaxing the older students nearer to the precious spaces by the fireplaces. The Firsties all look longingly to the warmth and wrap their green scarves tighter around themselves. 

"Shouldn't we start the Charms assignment? It's due before the break", Murk says, her usual stone-face display hampered by soft lift by her mouth and red tint at the top of her ears. Merula looks to her, steadily. Really looking. 

"What's your damage, Murk?" "Sure, it'll do good to get our hands moving and blood circulating", both Lizard and Merula say, at once. Annoyance creasing Merula's face as she death glares the other girl who spoke. 

All the while, Lizard looked unmoved by this, and just went to take out her parchment. "I'll start with the-", who was interrupted by Merula's hand over her mouth, "hmm, mmm, hmm", still trying to talk. "Shh, no one cares", softly telling Liz, in a faux-attempt to soothe her. "And you, since when are you interested in anything that isn't lackluster Lee? And playing being the responsible one trying to make us do homework? You're failing Potions, badly. You're clearly underqualified for that role", Merula says, _only Lizard can pull off the "I give a damn about marks"_ look. Still holding Lizard who finally stopped struggling and turned to look at Murk.

The other two Firsties, Eva and Gudgeon, casually looking to the sides as he braided her long hair. Trying to not bring any attention to themselves by staying quiet. 

Murk, however, is left gaping like a fish. "Well, I am allowed to decide to take an interest in my studies", with a tone drenched in so much dramatic dignity you would've thought that it was Eva speaking, "and we only have so much time to finish this assignment".

Merula narrows her eyes, Ismelda's confidence chipping away as the seconds fly by. Lizard, now released from her captivity, pushes out of her grasp. She looks over to them both, "you are acting weird". 

"Eva, don't you think she's acting weird?", Lizard asks, leaning over to look at a crouched girl who is shrinking her shoulders. Merula turned to look, after she didn't hear a reply. 

Murk releases a breath now away from those prying eyes. 

"Me?", eyes widened and who-me scribbled over. After it was obvious that no one bought it, she continued, "listen, don't mix me. I don't know", Evie says quickly. She gets up from the rug, clearly unwilling to be party in the discussion. 

Merula watches as this horrid girl who is supposed to take her side slinks away, and... Out of the Common Room, _Where are you going? _

\-------

Philius Flitwick glares at the paper in front of him with an expression Minerva had never seen on him. "Is anything the matter, Phillius?"

Appearing to have been snapped his attention away from his object of derision, he looks to Minerva and responds, "I was testing out a theory. I thought it would- I wanted to be wrong".

Minerva relaxes at his response. She had been expecting something more dire. _He must be doing a study of sorts,_ she thought briefly.

"What did you test? That is, if you don't mind me asking", as she sits in front of him in the Professors Lounge. 

"An individual who left half an exam blank, and yet managed to answer an advanced level question", he spoke more upset than she had seen him before even now. 

"This person sleeps in class, talks in class and yet can perform whichever spell on the year's curriculum. A First Year, at that. Mind you, the half that was answered is all correct. All of the practical questions on counter spells. The level of detail is impressive and you can clearly see how she thought it over by several perspectives", he lists off venemously.

Minerva tilts her head, _this doesn't really sound like a problem_, "so this person performs extraordinarily in practical work, yet lacks discipline in the theoretical side?"_ A student_, Minerva thinks, _but what an interesting fellow_. _Ravenclaw gets the oddest of the bunch._

"I don't believe it is so", Flitwick interjects, jumping up, "I thought it was perhaps a learning disability or impairment", nodding frantically. "But no, this question was on last year's OWLS. No one in the first year got it right but her. She didn't answer a single multiple choice question. She told me that they were too long". And admittedly, he looked very close to having a breakdown, and Minerva was not prepared for this. She was too sober, but even still. 

_She? _Minerva cracks a smile, "could I ask, who is this lazy prodigy?"

"Eva. It's Rosier", he croaks, sounding defeated.

And she is now perplexed.

But before she say anything, he continues his lament, "first I get Crius. Who would argue the curriculum to the day's end just because he forgot his assignment somewhere. Then. Then came Jacob with his excitable enthusiasm. Which meant, he _ never stayed still" _. 

"Not to mention all the shattering objects with his raw power. Which even though I had to pad the classroom for certain spells, was fine. But now... Now, I have this", pointing at the paper.

"So much potential. I made her exam different, you know. The practical questions were more complex, more advanced - challenging. And that's the only parts she did. She even drew Merlin with a python on the margin. She had enough time to draw a snake in the border but felt the multiple choice questions were too long..."

"Minerva, where did I go wrong? The only reason she even looked at the bonus question was because I told them that if they got it right, they were exempt from homework for a week", and she could tell that if she let him go on, he'd bemoan about this until the end of time. 

  
"So you are upset because you have discovered her talent?", it made sense now to Minerva. If that was the root of it all. _Crius, this is definitely your daughter. _

"She's extremely bright. In a few years, who knows what she could achieve. Sometimes I can't help but look at her and think of....", he stops himself, because many of the Death Eaters sentenced were his students and a great many of them were bright minds. Some didn't even make it to a day in court. Actually who was he to know if the rumors were true and he had been a Death Eater. Phillius supposed it doesn't matter anymore anyways. 

But yes, he could see Evan in her. In how she carried her form, that duel ready grip on her wand. In the answers too. In her questioning eyes. 

He tried not to think about Evan Rosier, because he couldn't think about Evan and not think of another one of his past students. It tended to go back to Tom. Because Evan was absolutely extraordinary. Yes, but so had others. But Evan had potential, he could've been more. So much more. 

But Tom Riddle happened. He was certain.

And Tom? Oh him, he was brilliant. A dedicated and talented student, a charming orator. The greatest student he had ever had. Phillius found it hard to reconcile the boy who he saw create his own spell at sixteen with the man now known as the Dark Lord. And Tom was gone now. He knew that. Tom had probably disappeared long before He Who Should Not Be Named perished. 

Seeing the change in his expression, Minerva shifts in her seat and attempts to lighten the conversation, "you could always talk to her, or perhaps have Severus do it for you".

Minerva would like to think Severus would step in for a member of his House. He always displayed a preference to Slytherins, anyways.

"It's torture! Watching her throw away her talent because she's choosing to put no effort whatsoever", his voice shaking. He would start feeling tears soon. And Phillius wouldn't be sure if he was crying for her future or the lost ones of his old shining stars. 

This is what Severus walks into. He assesses the scene and dramatically asks, "and who are you lamenting on, Phillius?" half interested, half-way decided on whether he'd check his inventory later on today.

He was rather satisfied with the work Snyde and Rosier did on the cauldrons. But he'd never tell them, it was a punishment after all. 

"Eva Rosier, she appears to be the bane of his existence", Minerva says with a tilt to her tone. Enjoying how Phillius looks to the skies for help. 

"And do tell, what exactly has one of my Slytherins done now?", Severus drawled on. Already have found Rosier guilty. 

  
"She's brilliant", he allbut wails, "can perform charms above her year. Jinxes, curses, protections. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already looking into illusory magic", Phillius looked defeated, and smaller than his 4 feet.

  
"Brilliant, you say. Then what is the problem", Severus said, holding himself by a window sill, and drinking his coffee. He had already started thinking of how he'd punish Rosier for being unruly, but brilliant he said. He never would have expected that. 

  
"She puts little to no effort in class, she's worse than the ghosts when it comes to disrupting and does not even begin to try to alter her behavior", Philius face laying on the marked paper. His eyes looking distant and hollow. 

Severus raises his eyes to try and peer into the paper, "this is unsurprising of that ruffian. Such a slacker, who no doubt has no regard for rules. Arrogant, is what she is". _Just like that brother of hers, _Severus thought. 

"I don't know think that's a fair assessment of her, Severus. Eva is the best student in my class. Diligent, hard-working and always open to instruction", Minerva said. That fire in her eyes, ready to defend her position. 

"Perhaps we are talking about a different pupil. She is a lazy, sloppy slacker. I wouldn't be surprised if she hadn't opened her edition Magical Draughts and Potions all term. I've never seen her do anything of value outside trouble. She's much worse than even that sorry excuse for a boy from Gryffindor that jumps at his shadow and he has already exploded three cauldrons".

"Ben Cooper is another quite diligent student. Philius is always raving about his formwork. I know not everyone is up to your standards in potion making, but let us remember they are children", she admonished. Because Ben was a kind boy, she had seen him in the Common Room quietly going over his textbooks and helping out the other First Years with their questions in Charms. 

Ben wasn't Eva. He didn't have that delicate wand work necessary for Transfiguration. But it didn't mean that he was hopeless.

Minerva thought Severus didn't give children enough credit. They still had time. Perhaps Ben would surprise them all. 

"It is true", Phillius said, speaking up between the two. "These are children. And also, Ben Cooper is an excellent student. But the issue at hand is Eva"

"Severus, promise me you'll speak to her", Phillius asked, and Snape nodded lightly. But did not look to Minerva again. 

And turned to leave, "now if you'll excuse me". Severus all but flew away, and Minerva chose to just watch. _You never change. Do you, Severus?_

\-------

She had overheard the gossipmonger that was Penny Haywood chattering on in the Courtyard, and usually she didn't tune in to whatever a Hufflepuff even says but she caught the name Eva. She was talking to another unidentified girl that must've been in Ravenclaw that Merula never bothered to know, and the other brought up how in Charms, Flitwick let them take some time to read over the chapter while he graded some papers. And apparently, the little man was vex. 

Merula had tried to understand how any of that had anything to do with Eva. But she continued to listen in, and the Ravenclaw brunette went on and on in her story. Until Haywood asked her about Eva, "I got up to pretend I wanted to ask him a question when he looked minutes away from ripping the test. When I got close enough, I looked down and it said Eva Rosier". The girl looked absolutely beaming, somehow proud of herself. "Word around the street is she hasn't even been turning in any work. Professor Flitwick was mighty upset over it. I wouldn't be surprised if she starts failing out soon". 

That's when she turned to leave from her hiding place. In the back of her mind, Merula promised to add them both to her list since they want to go around talking shit about Eva in public, _have the decency of doing it behind closed doors like a pureblood would. _

But she didn't have high hopes for Haywood, and never stayed long enough to hear what she'd say. She was too busy tracking down the elusive Eva Rosier. 

This is how Merula found herself running across halls like a some forsaken centaur. It felt like she'd have to check the whole castle for Eva, no one seemed to have seen her. Which was odd for someone who was never alone and had so many friends. 

_Where are you?, _Merula thought, mind running in loops. She nearly stopped herself when the thought that Eva went snooping for more clues for the treasure popped in her head. And that's when she noticed white hair blowing near a stone window sill. So Merula walked closer, until she was paces away. 

And there she was, siting on the sill and looking out into the Forbidden Forest. Her hair was braided all the way down and two stray strands blew around by her ears, at first Merula thought her skin seemed to glow under the winter sun's pale rays. Then she reminded herself why she had looked for this bloody twat. 

"Didn't you say that you wanted to outscore Khanna in every class? You can't do that if you never turn in any work", Merula says. And she saw how Eva nearly jumped when she heard her voice, before turning and scratching behind her ear. 

Eva had this sheepish smile that made her almost look remorseful, but Merula just rolled her eyes and narrowed them on her. Noticing how she wasn't dropping this, she raised both hands in surrender and smiled crookedly.

"I really _did _mean it. Really", crossing her heart, "but, do I have to do every stupid assignment?" Merula ignored the pressure in her chest at that look, and focused on this no-good headache of a girl. 

"Have you turned anything in this term?", she said, admonishing really. Face set in a firm and unapproving frown. 

" 'Course I have. Just not... consistently", Eva said offhandedly, an attempt to minimize the extent of her answer. But no, she wasn't letting her off. 

Eva turns her body towards the hall now, feet dangling and elbows on her knees while she leaned in, "isn't it a beautiful day?", and that smile she had on. 

On another day, Merula would sit next to her and look outside too, while they spent time just quietly enjoying each other's presence. But right now, she wasn't about to be duped by some pretty blue eyes and sparkly smile. 

"Just why?", clearly exasperated, Merula turns away from her incredulously. 

"Well, it's already snowing but this is the most sunlight we've had all week. Wouldn't you agree?", Eva spoke again. Once again ignoring the real issue. 

"No, you will not dismiss it that easily. Why haven't you turned in your work? How many classes have you done this with? By Merlin, what made you think this was a good idea? And if you fail out, what then? Huh? Ever think things through? ", Merula sprung in with questions, each one more laced with acrimony. 

On the other side, Eva shrugged. Not really providing any answers. 

"Oh, so you don't know? You are the best at Charms and you're probably failing. You know why? Because you're an idiot that would rather spend her time showing off in class than doing doing your own bloody work", Merula shouted now. Face red, and catching her breath now. 

Eva looked shocked, "it's okay though. I've calculated the points and if I score a 93 on the Final in the Spring, I'll make it through", she sounded reassuring. Like if the problem was that she wouldn't pass, it wasn't really an issue and she wanted Merula to know this. Like she was a little child throwing a tantrum that needed appeasing. 

The brunette looked at this idiot, "you've been planning to fail all this time? What was that bloody speech about acing this class and that one?" 

"Oh, yeah. Well, I'm pulling my weight plenty here and there but I'll just take the hit in Charms. It's one class and Khanna won't beat Ben anyways so what's the harm", she sounded so nonchalant. Merula was convinced she was either the dumbest person in the world, or some lazy genius in disguise. 

After her confession, Merula started paying more attention in all the classes she didn't like and pushing herself more and more. If Eva was going to ace everything, there was no excuse for her not to either. And she _knew _that Eva knew this. She noticed, and didn't say anything like she always did.

Eva Rosier played her. She used her competitive spirit and made her apply herself in school, knowing full well that she was not even turning in assignments. 

But wait, a lot of people had been acting strangely. So it meant-

"You're tricking everyone into pushing themselves, aren't you? It's you, isn't it? You must've done something and now Murk wants to study on free periods. I even saw Lee open a textbook yesterday. I didn't even know he had any", the more Merula spoke, the more sense it made. Eva had to have had a hand in that. 

"I don't know what you're talking about", Eva said. The face of innocence displayed before her, but Merula knew better. "We are going to hold you to that promise", grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet. 

Merula was certain about this. Eva _was _going to do better, she'd make sure of it. "We?", the girl questioned. 

Now behind pulled towards some unknown location, but walking along, Eva was surprisingly good-natured even about this.

"Yes, you and me. So we. We are going to make sure you beat Khanna in every class", Merula said, confidently, "we can't let that annoying know-it-all win".

A strained smile, "is this really necessary?" 

\-------

"You are to rearrange all of the vials from most to least toxic", he instructed coldly to Eva Rosier, who looked at him and apparently accepted that she'd be doing this for the next hour, after seeing the crates of vials.

"Yes, Professor Snape", dejectedly replying.

"It has been brought to my attention that you excel in certain aspects in Charms, but show no interest in the schoolwork", he reprimanded.

Unwilling to give her an inch, despite all the praise Phillius and Minerva had imparted on her. "You are truly as arrogant as your brother. He never bothered to heed anyone's words. Always so full of himself. I fear that perhaps we have been wasting our breath attempting to teach you when you've decided that there are better uses to your time", he spoke with a sneer. Looking over his inventory sheet, and taking out his wand to prepare for his next class. 

"Jacob was great at everything though, wasn't he?", she asked, quietly. "I saw his report cards, he aced every class. I've never really been the best at everything like him, but I try here and there". And he looked to her, this small girl putting away vials and looking into the distance. 

Regardless, he put on his sneer again, "the reason we are having this conversation is because you don't try, as you put it. There are reports of you speaking in class, sleeping in class and doing utmost it all but paying attention or taking notes. This type of behavior will not be tolerated in Hogwarts, and especially not, as a member of Slytherin ", Severus going in for the kill.

She had thrown him off, when she said she wasn't the best at everything like her brother. There was no bitterness just nostalgia, maybe melancholy. But he would not waver. But maybe, she isn't like Jacob. 

"I don't intentionally try to be disruptive or anything of that sort. I just find it all too easy", she said offhandly, her voice losing the sad, soft quality and back was the cheerfulness. She shrugs, and empties one crate. 

No, scratch that. She's clearly too arrogant.

So Severus, looks back to his papers, "You still need to pass the year to advance to material that isn't as too easy". Pitching his voice intentionally menacingly, because he'd ensure she'd alter her behavior. He was her Head of House, and Slytherins stick together. _She will not be another Jacob, _he thought. Perhaps that was a promise. 

_Even if the arrogance runs in the family. _Felix was a competent prefect and Theseus and Janus had been passable pupils. But they all had that arrogance found only in the privileged purebloods. They were wealthy and powerful, and they knew it.

And Jacob, he had been-

"Yeah, I know. That's why I do as much as I need to pass. And stop there. But I'm working on it", she said this less animatedly. Just thoughtful, and Severus asked himself why he was examining her every word. This was Evanthia Rosier. 

She would be failing his class if it weren't for Snyde pulling both their weights half the time. And still Rosier manages to set something on fire. Or to explode. Or a million other horrid scenarios. 

"You will do more than try", he says coldly. Already prepared to return to his initial deliverance. 

"Thank you for caring", she says suddenly, and reaches for another vial. He freezes. But doesn't attempt to contradict it. 

After this, Severus says nothing else. He doesn't acknowledge her after. She appears unfazed and continues to work. When Rosier finishes, she announces it and walks out. He says nothing else. 


	6. Holiday Season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter break is finally here.
> 
> A look into what being home looks for our little Firsties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get to see more into Ismelda and Liz, because our self-centered Eva is not the only one who is interesting.
> 
> So, I got to the point where we find that Ismelda has an older sister, but I wrote this before I got to that point in the story so JamCity played themselves. For the purpose of this story, she is an only child. 
> 
> Also, Barnaby's story is supposed to be similar to Merula, but again JamCity played themselves so this is the end result.

Ismelda was going home. 

From the looks of their dorm room, this was supposed to be stirring but things didn’t really excite her. At least not seeing her family, even perfect, vibrant Eva seemed a bit down. _Look at her awful face all made up. I doubt anyone would think she’s beautiful now, _some ugly, nasty part of her thought.

Lizard was helping Eva pack, and trying to cheer her up, “soon you’ll be home, and you’ll be able to see your enchanted ceiling, your house elf and even all your Christmas presents. Just think about the gifts your parents got you”. Eva smiled brightly, “you’re right. I can’t wait to see what Aunt Melpomene will give me this year. Last year she gave a golden harp. I mean, I can’t play to save my life but it is beautiful and maybe I can convince her to sing me a song”.

_How vain, _she thought, rolling her eyes, and carefully folding her clothes.

Lizard smiled, visibly glad that she cheered up Eva, “Melpomme? That’s a strange name”, all good-naturedly butchering the name.

“Mel-po-mene”, Eva said slowing, and then continued cheerfully while tucking in her shoes into a corner, “it’s an old Greek name. My grandmother named all of her children after famous people from then. Apparently it was quite daring of her or something. She was a Black, and they usually use stars as names”.

Despite herself, Ismelda wanted to ask more. There was something romantic about a tradition like that. The Blacks, who were infamous in Magical Britain especially for their “preserving attitudes”, undoubtedly would have things to say about that.

To think Eva was a Rosier, one of their white haired, blue eyed ones – as rare as diamond glass.

Ismelda watched as Lizard leaned forward, “imagine growing up with a name like Mel… Melpo-meme”, even Merula had turned to look at Eva, and pointedly asked, “I thought you said you hated the gifts your family gave you?”

Eva looked over at Merula, eyes crinkled and nose scrunched, “in my defense, they tend to give the most dreadful things. My grandmother gave me some Medieval stones. Just that – stones. Who gives a child some stones?”

Merula smirked, “you could fling ‘em at Felix”, she reasoned, “see how long it takes him to realize it’s you”

“As much joy as I get from tormenting my darling cousin, he is smart enough to pick up on them being my stones. I have a better shot at flinging them at Theseus and Janus, I’d have to look for them but me ‘nd Grace could so work on our aim over the winter”, Eva told her conspiratorially.

Lizard checked the time and said it was almost time to go to the Common Room for some posturing speech from Rowena Allen about Slytherin pride, and traditions and whatever else Ismelda wouldn’t be paying attention to.

“Okay, okay. I’ll just go and check to see if the boys are done”, Eva told Lizard, her attempt to appease her. “Mer?”, not even a breath later, _are you incapable of going anywhere without someone flanking you? How pathetic. And you’re who everyone looks up to? When you’re nothing but a girl who can’t bear to be alone. _

Too caught up in her internal chiding, Ismelda didn’t catch what followed until Eva was in front of her, looking expectantly, “so?”

“So what?”, an automatic response. Her voice more like nails on a chalkboard, out of tune and unpleasant, “what do you want?”

To her credit, Eva only looked slightly put off, “well, _alright_ then. I guess I’ll go by my lonesome”. Ismelda didn’t register what just happened until Lizard reproached, “you didn’t have to be so rude. You could’ve just said you didn’t want to go. She’s really sensitive, you know”.

Ismelda didn’t expect this type of response from Lizard, who isn’t any good with human relations. Most likely due to her fascination with all things creature related. And here she was, defending her.

“Well, Murk being an arse. How is that new?”, Merula muttered from her end of the room, not sparing either a look now that Eva was gone.

“I didn’t hear what she said. Okay?”, Ismelda reeled to defend herself, but Lizard was just looking at her with disappointed brown eyes, silently judging her. “Just let it go, Lizard”, Merula said, as she closed her trunk and walked over to Eva’s.

For some reason, Ismelda was almost certain she was missing something. But she hadn’t spaced out for long, so what’s the big problem? And since when has Eva ever been sensitive? She’s always going on these brazen adventures all over the castle and getting into trouble. Eva Rosier isn’t sensitive or sensible.

On the other side of the room, Merula moved purposefully, every action contained. A seriousness to her that was unsettling. Both Lizard and Merula finished packing away for Eva. _She probably left to get out of packing her things, and they’re in here defending her. _

“Fine, take her side. I didn’t do anything so you can all piss off”, Ismelda cursed at them, and stormed out. She saw a curse hit the door frame as she left, _fuck all of her lackeys. _

\-------

“You already packed, right?”, Michael asked Taft, who was lying with his arms crossed behind his head.

From where he was he could see Taft in all the glory of his bowl-cut of black hair and mess of freckles across his face. The boy was on Michael's bed, just lying there while he packed and not bothered to offer to help. Not that it had been odd. 

Taft took unconcerned a bit far. To date, Michael didn’t think anyone could rush Taft. He did everything at his own speed, if allowed. Which it so happens, Michael didn’t often let him to his own devices.

Nothing was enough to ruffle Taft’s feathers, always ready to shrug things off.

This was one of the reasons Michael was basically his keeper. Which meant that it was his job to be a walking agenda for the world's most laid-back Slytherin. 

You'd think that you're supposed to be ambitious, or perhaps even driven, to make it there. But somehow, someway, here was Taft George proving everyone wrong by simply existing. 

Eyes still closed, the black-haired boy answered, “so what if I haven’t?” Taft was deflecting, which made Michael question why. Michael wouldn't be surprised if he was angling on getting help packing, or thought stressing him out was entertaining. Annoyed, and slightly miffed by having to go out of his way to get answers out of Taft when it was like pulling teeth, he picked up and balled a shirt he was had thrown into his school trunk and flung it at the Sleeping Prat.

It hit him square on the nose, and the full body scrunch that Taft did was worth it in Michael's mind. 

Then Taft chuckled lightly and propped his elbows on the bed and looked up, eyes half-lidded in only mild interest just as he did everything else. “Why? Are you worried I won’t come by this year?”, his voice lilted in tease when it would usually just stay bored. 

They had met over the summer, and Michael had readily accepted him – with all his faults – as his friend, which Taft took like he did everything, a blasé acceptance and went along.

Even knowing how Taft was, there was no helping the surge of embarrassment that Michael felt over being poked fun at, he was someone who was self-conscious and cared what people thought. Even if he didn't let it show. Like he wouldn't let it show now. "What aren't you telling me?", voice accusing and suspicious, there was no helping that. 

Taft melted into a position of indifference, his face in its resting bored position and Michael stared daggers at him. Letting the silence drag on, he let the question hang.

"Are you going to answer or do I have to force it out of you?" 

That was the only warning he gave before jumping on top of him, and beginning to tickle him.

Taft let out a high-pitched cry in start and then laughed at the attack, "What?! Stop! No! No, no", in between laughs, as Michael tickled his sides and wrestled away his attempts of throwing him off. "I'll stop if you tell me what you were hiding", Michael tells him, before increasing his efforts in his tickle attack.

"No!", Taft gets out, before he's overcome with laughter, tears falling towards and hands flailing to stop Michael. "Okay, fine. J-just stop", he exclaims. 

"You promise to tell me the truth, nothing but the truth?", Michael asks in faux-seriousness, but kept the sporadic slight tickle on one side then the next. Taft rolled his eyes, aware that this was the oaf’s way of making light of everything, but flinched upon contact still. "So help me Morgana", he said spitefully, unsure of whether as a curse or a promise.

Upon accepting this as a victory, Michael stopped and got off of Taft and looked up expectantly. "I'm staying here", he said, and Michael leaned in. Certain he must have heard it wrong. 

“Come again?”, Michael asked, clearly confused. This couldn’t be right; his mother was already planning to clear out a room to house him for a few days after Michael pestered her for weeks.

The dark haired boy looked up at him, and shrugged lazily. While Michael blinked at him, the initial shock melting off and finding a smile to press into his face, “What do you mean you’re staying here? Taft Adolphus George, you and I have plans”, he said sickly sweet, only moments away from beating him with a pillow, a shoe, anything within reach really.

The worst part was that all Taft Adolphus George did was an over-the-top sigh, and answered only after seeing the balled up trouser Michael was aiming at him with. “You are such a drama queen”, he drawled, “Snape asked who wanted to stay and I told him I would. What’s the big deal?”

Part of Michael felt like a wet cat, and nearly hissed at the question, “and you didn’t think to let me know?”, he grinded out. It nearly pained him to say anything in a humane tone to this inconsiderate, no-good, rotten lazy son of a bitch.

Michael Gudgeon was a lot of things. He was the youngest of three, the often forgotten sibling. He was pudgy, chubby, fluffy – whichever adjective you wanted to describe his non-skinniness. He was dumpy for his age; a short-story among the boys of Slytherin. And sure, he had a bad habit of taking special pains to catch news, if you catch my drift. But knowledge was power, and Michael wasn’t just nosy.

But what he, Michael Gudgeon, certainly wasn’t, was dumb enough to take Taft’s answer at face value.

“You’re making this a thing”, said that deflated party balloon of a boy.

Barnaby chose to barge in then, “here’s where you were. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. The trains back to King’s are leaving in an hour, and Eva said if she has to come for you, you won’t like what happens”, he said as if reciting something from memory.

At this point, Michael was upset. He was used to being the one that puts in the most effort but really, Taft wasn’t even going to acknowledge what Barnaby said, “Sir Taft here, decided he’s going to stay in Hogwarts over the holiday”.

“What?”, Barnaby asked, more confused than usual. “But we have plans. Aren’t we going to visit each other? I made t-shirts”, Barnaby’s voice unhappy and shoulders lowered.

_Even Barnaby is with me on this one, _he thought viciously. A wave of vindication, as Barnaby’s green eyes questioned the other, “it is clear that he does not care about our feelings or our plans”, he said spitefully. Now, Michael was throwing all of his clothes into the trunk aggressively, while Barnaby looked on clearly lost on what the context was.

“You can always just write me. It’s not like I’m going anywhere”, Taft had the nerve to say, eye brows scrunched up in annoyance.

A banging on their doors, “A quick word of parting by the Head Girl at the Common Room. It’s not an invitation, you better come down in twenty minutes”, their prefect yelled from outside.

Taft grabbed the pillow and smothered his face in, “do I have to?”

\-------

Today had been hard for Eva, but that was alright. She’d get through it. She was used to this.

Usually, it was much worse. She’d sit at the foot of the stairs at her house and watch the house elves fuss over the decorations and food, until Grace came barreling downstairs into her. Too small to understand anything at all but wanting to trail behind Eva anyways, Grace was a small ray of sunlight in the bleak atmosphere.

Usually, there are tight-lipped grimaces on her parents as they barely look at one another on that day. Eva at this point, would ignore it, and stare off into the front door.

Nothing ever happens.

No one burst through the door, with bags hanging off and a massive smile. No one mentions why. It is alright.

Eva is used to this.

Today was Jacob’s birthday – 20th of December. She had sat and waited for him to come home for many years, and then he never did. So, usually she would get up and try and think of being anywhere but right there.

But that too was alright.

Now, she was at Hogwarts. And sure, it was the day that they’d be sent home. But this time, she wouldn’t let herself drown in her melancholic theatrics.

“Oy, Bear!”, she hailed to Barnaby, after sneaking into the boys’ area. “They said they were coming”, was his immediate reply.

Eva scoffed, not believing for it for a minute. “Why are boys so unreliable?”

Barnaby, the good sport he was, shook his head along with her, “can you believe Taft said he was staying in Hogwarts?”

Both of them went board still, when a boy walked into them. Admittedly, they were having a conversation in the hallway leading to the boys’ dorms, somewhere she shouldn’t “allegedly” be. All of which most likely went through the blond’s head just as his eyes grew comically wide, and mouth went gaping.

Eva whipped out her wand and levelled it to his neck, “you never saw us here. This didn’t happen”. The tip of her wand heating up in anticipation of the hex under her tongue, while the boy nervously bobbed his head.

Months of practicing charms above her year gave her the security that she could take this kid, if all fails, Barnaby could be a hell of a human shield, “now, turn around and count to twenty”, she said menacingly.

The boy, who was shorter than Barnaby, but most likely in second or third year, slowly turned, “count out loud”, she commanded.

Then grabbed Barnaby by his sleeve and pulled him away. On the bright side, the good sport started running with her.

Maybe it was adrenaline flooding her nervous system, but they didn’t stop until they were outside the Common Room, near the Filch’s office. “Do you think he’ll snitch?”, she said, huffing, in attempts to catch her breath.

While Barnaby leaned on the wall, in clearly a better shape, since he collected himself quicker, “if he does, I’ll give him an incentive to keep quiet”. Cracking his knuckles, it’s a good to remember that Barnaby was the tallest boy in their year, so he could look scary if he need to.

Eva looked up from her crouching position, holding herself up with her hands on knees, “Let me… know if you need back-up”, she said, crooked smile leading to a gasping chuckle, “did you see his face? It was all, “oh no!” He looked like he saw inferi cornering him”.

She melted into the wall, and Barnaby laughed along with her, “you think we can get Mer to do a polyjuice potion to give him another good scare”. She quickly added, “just to make sure he’s with the program?”

Out of nowhere, another blonde head pops into their line of sight, and Eva resists rolling her eyes. “Did you just say you’d use a potion to torment someone?”, the self-righteousness in her voice was so Gryffordian than Eva squinted her eyes in suspicion.

However, this time around, it was Barnaby who recovered quickly. He put up his guard, and moved to get in between the blonde and his friend, “Who is that?”, he whispered.

“A Hufflepuff, I reckon”, not bothering to mask her response.

She held herself up, squaring her shoulders and looking at the two Slytherins in the eye, “if I go to Snape, you’ll be in a lot of trouble”.

“You’re going to go to _our_ Head of House to inform on us. Really. Who do you think he’ll side with?”, Eva sounded smug, and unimpressed.

“Yeah, who do you think?”, Barnaby repeated, posturing further and ready in case a fight breaks out. You can trust on him to have your back if it comes to blows.

However, Eva was bluffing, hard. Snape would believe anything anyone said as long as it was against her. The girl had no illusions that the tentative understanding they had could fall through any second and he’d go back to barking at her for the slightest thing.

Yet, the Hufflepuff didn’t know this.

The slight hesitance as her eyes dart to the side tells her she has convinced the girl. “What’s your issue with us anyways? You could just walk away and we can forget about this”, something in Eva telling her that it was unlikely to be as easy as with the boy in the dorms.

“Rosier, I expected more from you”, she grounds out, and Eva furrows her brow. “Me?” _What could this stranger have to do with me?_

“Do you know her?” Barnaby asked, risking a quick glance to her.

So Eva thought to look hard at the girl. She had an agreeable face, like if it was odd that she was scowling now, “we’re in the same year”, she supplied begrudgingly.

“Ohhh…”, both Barnaby and she said at the same time, like it was a great revelation. Momentarily, it being enough to distract them into leaning into each other.

“Haywood”, Eva says putting the name to the hair. She just associated the long blonde hair with braids to Haywood Hufflepuff, they had Herbology together. Mer can’t stand her. “She was the one consoling Ben after someone turned his hair green”.

Barnaby nodded in agreement, “I never figured out who did that”.

“Yeah, me neither. As far as pranks go, I thought it was a bit subpar”, Eva said like a wine critic, “it lacked the shock factor”.

Something in Haywood’s posture relaxed a bit, “well, he was shocked plenty”.

“Perry, is it? This catching up has been brilliant. Marvelous. But we have to go. We got some important Slytherin business to attend to”, ever the one to keep talking. Both of the Slytherins took off in a run, leaving the blonde.

Irritated that she actually let them get on over her, “it’s actually Penny!”, without thinking of anything else to say. Whatever Haywood decided to do with what she eavesdropped would have to wait after the break, and she’d have to school Bear on how to deny everything.

“Of course, Paula. It’s been a pleasure”, Eva, all toothy grin, hollered back and kept it stepping.

“I said it’s Penny. And I never said you could call me that”, she yelled over to the disappearing figures. Some people that were walking past looked at her like she was mad, and Penny shifted from one foot to the other, and clenched her fists then turned away.

_Maybe today wasn’t so bad, _Eva thought running back to the Common Room, realizing that she hadn’t thought about Jacob for the last forty minutes.

Usually she allowed his memory to swallow every moment. But apparently today would be different, she almost laughed.

Not even looking, as her calves burned from the harsh treatment of having to run from and then to the Slytherin lair. Eva could feel the soles of her feet consciously with every step, and the sharp pain up her heel.

She must’ve not been looking because Barnaby pulled her to the side before she ran into a wall, and still she didn’t feel too bad.

The Common Room was packed with all its members when they got back. After a quick scan, Eva headed over to stand next to Merula, Barnaby following close behind. She leaned her shoulder into hers, Merula looked over with an annoyed look then saw her and raised her eyebrows in question. She had been standing with her arms crossed next to Liz-laz with a good two meters of space between them.

“You’ll never guess who I just met”, she whispered into Merula’s ear. The room filled with chatter, making it hard to hear anything at all.

Merula scrunched her nose in question, and Eva continued on, “a Hufflepuff named Haywood. Bumped into her by the corridor near the Main Hall”. Distaste all over Merula’s face and Eva laughed lowly.

“May I have all of your attention, please”, the great Slytherin Head Girl said, by way quieting the room.

\------

The trains were ready to take them back to King’s station, and as soon as the doors slid open, children began pouring in.

People were chattering animatedly, and it felt eerily like the first time they’d gotten on the train. Eva found an empty compartment and Merula followed in. For the first few minutes, it was like they were back there, four months ago.

Merula sat next to her, a small smile that made Eva think that the same thought crossed her mind. “Are you going to buy out the trolley again?”, stretching her feet on the seat and leaning into the white haired girl.

A callback to what Eva had told her, catching it made her grin, “nothing like that”. Settling into the easy acceptance between the two, _maybe this is different._

“Here’s where you are”, Liz exclaimed, and all but rushes in, with Gudgeon following behind. Who snaps the door closed and holds it, putting one leg on the panel as someone from outside tries to pry it open.

Then comes a banging on the door, “should I ask?”, Eva questions aloud to no one in particular. As Lizard sits across them, and pays no attention to Gudgeon.

“Open the bloody door”, a voice yells from outside.

“Never! You malmsey-nosed sea monster!”, Gudgeon responded, one foot on the panel, and the other on the seat, holding the door closed.

“You could’ve just locked it”, Eva said, finding the whole thing ridiculous, in the best way possible.

Merula sighed, “why do they have to share a compartment with us?”

“Yeah!”, Gudgeon exclaimed. “No one wants you here, you unregistered selkie”.

“What did Murk do to him now?”, clearly over this already.

“No! Nonononono. No!”, as the door was slowly pried open until Gudgeon was left clutching the handle, and looking at Barnaby who walked around him and sat next to Liz, “Traitor! I thought we were boys!”

  
The boy looked down at Gudgeon confused, “Huh?”

With betrayal and indignation burning in his eyes, Gudgeon flailing on the ground, “you let her in. How could you?” Then Barnaby looked to the smug Ismelda that stood by the door, “who knows what irrationality he’s talking about”.

“Ismelda told me the door was jammed and she needed help with it”, Barnaby said, and Eva thought, _things can only get worse from here, _wildly amused.

The engine revved up and train started moving, Gudgeon nearly lost his footing, “Barnaby, do you ever not think just about yourself. What about the rest of us?”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to-”

“Shh…”, Eva said to Liz who had been attempting to diffuse the argument, “this is free entertainment”.

Gudgeon got up indignantly, and sat next to Ismelda, who heaved him off the seat. “You took her side, and you see how she treats me?”, a last plea to Barnaby, who looked like a deer in headlights.

At this point, Eva could almost see the wheels in Gudgeon’s head turning and if she could, then so could Merula. He had just realized that Liz, Barnaby and Ismelda had stuff themselves on that seat and unless he wanted to sit on them, his only option was the space Merula’s feet were occupying. Merula’s eyes narrowed and her scowl deepened.

“Come over here ‘nd see wha’ happens”, Merula tells him, when he looked longingly over at her sprawled feet, crossing her arms and glowering at him.

“You have the space”, he pleaded.

“I’ll put my foot in a space of yours if you’re feeling frisky”

“We were supposed to be boys”, he said incensed, or Gudgeon’s version of that. And Eva laughed, head thrown back and eyes closed. Her laugh was infectious; a ghost of a smile on Merula and Ismelda casually leaning into Barnaby as he laughed too, even Liz was joining. Gudgeon’s shoulders dropped, dejected, “I hope Black Annis gets your arses”.

All toothy-grinned, it looked almost unnatural for Ismelda to smile, “you’re such a baby”, Merula had to blink it back, “did she- did she just smile-smile”, whispering over to Eva, who nodded warily, looking at Ismelda like a lion let loose in a kids petting zoo.

“Alright laugh. Laugh at the boy with no real friends”, sounding sulkier than he had ever been, before dropping on top of the three of them, “if you don’t like it then fight Merula for my honor and win me a seat”. He was purposely throwing his weight on Ismelda, and Liz looked ready to jump out of the seat. Both of which tried to push him on Barnaby, “but Michael, I thought we were friends”.

Gudgeon was about to answer, when the trolley cart lady comes by, and Eva is partly disappointed that there wasn’t an all-out fight. Just partly. Alright, maybe more than partly.

“Any of you dearies would like anything from the cart?”, she sounds as kindly as Eva remembers, and that makes her smile.

This time, it’s between the six of them that they nearly buy out the trolley, with Liz eating chocolate frogs, “tut-tut, look whose munching on poor baby frogs”, and Ismelda snickered. A slight pinkness around her high cheeks, indignation burning bright behind her glasses, “I’ll have you know that you know that the manufacturers give a percentage of their earnings to the preservation of fire frogs”.

Now, Eva and Merula were sitting crossed legged, Indian-style on the seat with the treats between them while they picked out what they’d eat next.

Eva jumped up in astonished realization, and shouted, “Hey!”, getting everyone’s attention on her. Her head surveying the room as if taking note of who was there for the first time.

“Hmm?”, some of them answered, others had their mouth full of treats.

With a frankly uncharacteristic steadiness, Eva asked, “Where’s Taft?”

Tilting her head, “Who?” Merula asked, _I am not even surprised, _Eva thought, eyes raised up and looking at the sky in attempts to ask for help, patience, anything really.

“Taft. He’s a Slytherin. In _all our classes_”, Liz provided, matter-of-factly, like it was an obvious fact, Ismelda and Barnaby nodding along and looking at her with a “well duh” face.

Eva knew that Merula most likely felt a twinge of embarrassment since she touched her face and wouldn’t look at Eva, “aren’t there two more nondescript boys?” _You mean you don’t know who they are either? _Eva thought, looking at Merula, _you genuinely don’t see who you don’t want to see._

Barnaby spoke up, “I told you he said he’s staying”, and the way Gudgeon grunted in distaste, sprawled across the three Slytherins that were now over the fact that this overgrown Cabbage Patch Kid was slumped on top of them. “He’s dead to me”, Gudgeon said resentfully, lifting his chin in the air, or what Eva supposed was his chin.

Evidently, Liz must’ve pitied the poor fellow since she squished herself to the corner and nudged Gudgeon, who smiled at her like she was sending him to Cockaigne. Gudgeon fell over himself to squeeze into the spot, throwing elbows and knees on purpose to Ismelda and Barnaby, “hey” “hey!”, they shouted.

Eva laughed animatedly at the show, and Merula also seemed cheerful. For a moment, Eva allowed herself to grin, all joyful youth. This December 20 wouldn’t have to end with her locking herself in his room and blasting his music until she fell asleep, “What ever happened to Titus? He was here and then poof?” _What ever did happen to our background boys, _not all of the Slytherins were easy friends, some just hung out due to forced public unity.

However, no one would actually admit it. And most days, Eva was so busy going on some hunt for some next ridiculous object that she’d forget that there were more people in the castle than the ones standing in front of her. In another world, Eva would have noticed many things that she took for granted.

“Spattergroit”, Barnaby and Gudgeon said at the same time. They looked like this was a fact of life. Barnaby’s face fell slightly, _maybe they are close? _Eva wondered.

While next to her, this had been a surprising turn for Merula, “what?” She stopped unwrapping her chocolate frog, shoulders hunched slightly over with an inquisitive look in her eyes, “so you mean that he’s actually gone for a reason? As in, he’s honestly ill? Not those made-up sicknesses that Karasu pulls to get out of Herbology?”

Right about now, Eva felt herself feel embarrassed. She had liked Titus. He was on the quiet side but had a wicked tongue when it came to insults, and he had an infinite supply of them when it came to Ravenclaws. It was like he was almost inherently against them, which made Eva’s life easier when actively antagonizing Rowan. But also, an added headache since he was easily one of the most well-read people in their entire year, so another variable to add to her plans.

To think that he had been sent away, and she hadn’t even noticed until now. “I swear, I saw him like a month ago”, she said to herself, sounding like a mental patient trying to convince themselves they saw John Lennon down the road. “He’s been gone since like the 3rd of October”, Barnaby said, counting his fingers slowly to make sure, “before Liz’s birthday, but after the mid-semester exams”.

_Titus has been gone for about two months then, _Eva thought

Evidently, all this inventory must have made Ismelda also finally take notice of the missing people, “Where’s Adger?” _Oh, so he’s _Adger _to you, huh? _A part of Eva wanted to pry, and prob. Make her sweat a bit, just for a little fun.

Liz was taking this all like new information, _unsurprising, she is a recluse. _Due to her confusion, Gudgeon supplied, “after Titus got… well, you know. His parents got super paranoid and took him out”, Gudgeon confided, no one like gossip like that boy. “He’s in Durmstrang, well, he had something like a holiday in the meantime. But he’s starting there next term”.

Looking like she was mastering the equations on the universe, Merula level a look from across the compartment, and slowly began, “so all in all, we no longer have those extra two nondescript boys and the other one ditched us to play warden at Hogwarts?”

Ismelda blinked slowly at her, before asking, “you also made plans with Taft?”

“No, but I’m sure that me not agreeing to these plans would’ve stopped you all from including me in them regardless. So, in essence, he stood us all up?”

Everyone was quiet suddenly. It was sinking in.

“See? It’s your own people”, Eva said, face twisted making her look more like a television show copper than an actual schoolgirl, “you can’t trust these people”, and Merula burst out laughing, with Gudgeon following and then everyone after. It was a poor attempt to lighten the mood. They laughed anyways. For absolutely no reason.

\-----

Putting down her trunk and turning towards Merula, then Eva launched herself on her. Taking the other girl by surprise and nearly toppling over, “you must absolutely, super-duper promise to write me. Every week, every day. It doesn’t matter what it’s about. Even if all you do is answer all my incessant questions, okay?” Eva was holding her in a bone-crushing hug, but Merula found herself smiling softly into that big, white hair.

“I’m pretty sure that Ruine would get tired of all that flying”, Merula muttered into the hair. It felt safer somehow. In a way, it meant Merula wouldn’t cry in front of all these people waiting to be picked up by their families. _While you are alone, _a dark whisper passed through her mind.

Eva didn’t know it but she had already given her a gift. Now, Merula had someone to write to.

Now, Merula was certain that it wouldn’t be such a bad Christmas, “you gotta let go, Eves”, she muttered into Eva’s ear. Childishly, Eva shook her head and clung tighter, “you haven’t promised. You hafta promise me. Especially today, I need to hear it today”.

Something in Merula’s chest felt that uncomfortable burn again. She hadn’t been ready for it the first time it happened, when Eva held her hand tightly under the Transfigurations desk, after Snape had scolded her in the hall for taking the fall the day after he caught them by the kitchens in the dead of night. Back then, it was a slight sting of heat. Now it made her whole ribcage constrict with what she could only imagine were birds with flames for wings with how they fluttered along her torso. “I promise”, Merula said, somewhere along a last minute attempt to get a handle on herself and a wish to the universe that this feeling doesn’t ever stop.

Eva sighed, but carefully let her go. Blue eyes shining bright like ocean-tinted treasures from a thousand sunken ships, “you don’t get to cry this time”, Merula tells her, deciding that she has to be the strong one this time. _For you, I will. _

“I-I… okay, fine”, Eva looked about ready to say something, but stopped and lifted herself up with all that unnatural grace that took a lifetime to beat into a debutante’s body, and let out a rushed of breath. The air was cold enough that her breath was white, no, that wasn’t right. Eva’s hair was stark white, like pristine snow, or cumulus clouds on a sunny day. Next to that everything looked less colourless.

Instead of just an attempt at a smile, Eva grinned; all full teeth and closed eyes. Merula gave her a wide smile in return. This was their moment in a crowd of people, after all. Then she watched as Eva waved at all the other Slytherins greeting their families. It’s funny how Merula’s smile melted as she kept watching everyone meet their parents.

Some pressure in her chest that she had forgotten once again left her feeling hollow.

Eva looked back at her one last time, then grabbed her trunk and rushed over into the sea of tall strangers. Merula thought that maybe she did everything that way – diving in, come what may.

With a long suffering sigh, Merula grabbed the trunk she had left on the ground after that unexpected attack of affection and began searching for her aunt in the crowd.

A hand grabbed her shoulder, and Merula fought the full-body recoil she felt at the unexpected touch, “I’m heading out now. I wanted to say take care, have a great Christmas. And you can write me if you like. ”, Lizard said, somewhat out of breath. The puffs of air still looked gray to Merula, and her eyes followed it still. She was shocked to hear this, she had been particularly mean to Lizard all term and here she was, wishing Merula off.

\-----

Grace was so happy when she saw Eva that she flung herself on her the minute Evie stepped into the house. Eva held her tightly, Grace smelled of Fleurs d'Orlane, the perfume she picked up at Floris while Genevieve was chatting away with the muggle saleswoman. Then and there, Grace decided it would be her signature smell like she was some Old Hollywood dame.

Sometimes little sisters were a lovely occurrence.

“I thought you’d never be back”, Grace said, out of breath, and tearing up. “It’s been so long and I hadn’t gotten a letter in a week”.

Heely and Wonry had popped out of nowhere and were also clinging to her crying, “Miss Evanthia! ‘is back” “Miss Evanthia ‘as returned!” . Evie stood there in the entrance and couldn’t help but bask in all the overdramatic affection.

“Now, now. Everyone give Starlight some space. She just got back and must want to catch her breath”, Crius declared, and Grace begrudgingly started to let go.

With an exaggerated sigh, wiping their eyes, the house elves stepped back and took her trunk, “’s so good to have Miss Evanthia back”, and popped away.

Grace looked morosely at Crius, “you still have to get ready for the party this evening, Miss Lady. So, off you go”, his voice is ribbing, yet coaxing. Regardless of this, Grace’s face turned more petulant. She huffed and turned away.

“She sure is something”, Evie said, looking at the little golden girl storm up the stairs. Then looked over to the tall man in the dark navy robes, he was still the Crius she remembered. Four months and he was still the same as always.

He was already moving towards, no doubt, his lab on the west wing. “You get a breather, but the same goes for you. Your mother will not _appreciate_ if you aren’t ready when the guests arrive”.

Usually her eyes would burn with refusal to exculpate any of her parents, a dark desire to force them to admit aloud the emptiness in the room. Yet, Evie doesn’t feel the pang in her chest that she had this morning. There is still the urge to scream or hurl something to get a reaction out of him.

But here she was, taking a few steps in his direction. Wishing things went back to how they were before. Because today wasn’t the day for her to fall back into herself. _Perhaps Father wouldn’t mind…_

Soon, they would put on their fake smiles and beautiful clothes for the party where the guest of honor was missing.

In a different world...

“You mind if I come with?”, she would ask. She'd stop, only feet away from him. Her heart beating quickly, enough to hear it pounding in her ears. In the pulsing of her fingertips.

The white-haired man stops, and she holds her breath, “don’t complain if you feel tired-out later”, he says instead of yes or no. She doesn’t miss that. He starts walking again, and that is her indication to follow.

_He doesn’t even question it, _she thinks as she falls into step with him.

Her father would usually lock himself in that lab or in his study on this day until it was absolutely necessary to come out for the festivities. He’d plaster on a mask but Evie saw that he kept a distance between him and everyone else.

She usually begrudged that too.

When they got to the lab, he waved his wand and the radio began playing a Prince song she hadn’t heard before. “You know, I made a friend at school who has this amazing muggle invention called a Walkman”, she sees his lip quirk; only because she was studying his face the way Genevieve did at tea parties.

“It’s supposed to play music into your ears. And get this… It’s portable! Isn’t that incredible?”, Evie starts chattering, while she sits on opposite to him. It appeared that he was drawing some sketches for what appeared like an engine-like something. A small smile played on his lips.

Wiping his hands, he leaned forward, “a Walk-man? Do they call it that because you can walk and play music at the same time?”, he mused. Evie jumped forward, “I asked the same thing! Ben said he didn’t know”.

The previously impassive look on his face had melted into curiosity and amusement, _he’s humoring me, _“we couldn’t even use it because of the wards at Hogwarts. We’ve been actually tried nearly everything and the wretched thing refuses to cooperate”. Crius was smiling now, _this is time has got to be different_.

“So, tell me Starlight, what other conditions keep it from functioning?”, the curiosity was winning out. Evie could’ve fist bumped the sky, _he’s going to figure it out._

But that is only in her mind. 

Right now, inside of her bedroom, Eva changes into a tangerine dress that'll make Grace smile and decides that this is her new favorite colour.

\------

The only child of a well-off family, she could have whatever she wanted as long as she “behaved”.

Ismelda stood with her arms extended as the tailor took her measurements. The mirror had three sides so she was staring at her face from every, uncomfortable angle.

“How’s this length?”, Madam Pampas asked, clearly, her mother and not her, as she held the measuring tape above her mid-calf. “That looks about right. How about making the band a little wider to draw away from the chicken legs?”

Ismelda clenches her teeth and holds her remark.

“Make one in lilac. I think it would look wonderful with her eyes”, Lale said, a self-satisfied smiled as Madam Pampas nodded. “We could do a sash, or perhaps, a shawl?”, the bright-haired tailor with her quill already drawing up designs.

Obviously, these two were lost in a world of their own, “Maybe add some frills. Don’t you think it would look wonderful, darling?”

_I hate my life_, “Yes, mother”, Ismelda answered, dejectedly. _It’s not like you really care what I think. _

They are here because the holidays mean attending parties. There are about four events that her mother is expecting her to appear to. This means four more occasions for Ismelda to be stuffed in some debutante dress while she is ripped into by Lale Murk.

Her mother always comments on her looks, even though she wasn’t beautiful either. It did not take a genius of extraordinary capacity to figure that out. Lale had a biting sort of face, all sharp angles.

The closest she got to a pleased expression was that mocking sneer she put on in society gatherings, “we’ll have to do something about your hair. I’ve told you time and time again, you must comb it out so you don’t look like Gehara. I’m saying this because I care”.

Following behind her mother, Ismelda rolled her eyes, “not everyone has time to spare for sitting around…”, Ismelda mutters, cutting herself off. 

They were going to another store, this time to get a hat for Lale. “Well, perhaps if you took it upon yourself to set aside time to tame down that mess then maybe I wouldn’t have to point it out for you. For now, you can draw away with a bit of flare”, she continued, and the tips of Ismelda’s ears were bright red.

The attendant came by, “maybe a small one? What colour is the dress?” The young witch stepped away to search through the front display hats. All frills and lace, and Ismelda could vomit at those colours. “Bring a few options. We have several events lined up”.

Unlike Ismelda, Lale Murk loved colours. Especially bright, pastel colours. Perhaps she thought all that brightness would “draw away” from her own disagreeable face. “I am _not _putting on a hat”, Ismelda whisper-yelled into her mother’s ear, trying to school her face. It would not do to make a scene. “I’m not some middle-aged woman living in a Victorian novel”.

Ismelda is not traditionally pretty; she has thin lips and a wide mouth, a sickly complexion with a pointy nose for a face. She looks mean. And she knows this.

Lale grips her forearm and pulls her subtly closer, “you _need _a hat. And apparently you need some manners too”. Ismelda glowered at her mother. This woman wouldn’t know politeness if it struck her in the face.

“_Fine_”, at this point there was no reason to keep at it. Lale would decide this costume like she always did, and it was a waste of time to fight it. “But I’d like some new shoes”, Ismelda said. “And I’d like to check out the new artifacts store on Wrightwood. And after that, I want to go to the brooms store”, she called over, watching Lale walk away from her and towards the old woman charming about ten hats to float above her, while holding boxes.

“Certainly, darling”, her mother said offhandedly, definitely not paying her any more attention than she had to. And already feeling the material of the tiny caps and hats the elderly attendant brought over.

By the end of the day, Ismelda had an armful of new weird artifacts that were perhaps not entirely legal. And she was getting her broom delivered in a few days, which meant she could practice some flying.

Ismelda knew that boys liked going flying, and maybe this was something she could do with Barnaby. She couldn’t shake the smile on her face when she thought about it.

Sometimes it was worth it to endure.

\--------

There had always been four undeniable facts in Elizabeth Tuttle’s life. Not that anyone called her Elizabeth.

**Number 1:** She was a half-blood. Liz had learned this fact early on in her life. Her mother, Nellore, was the magical one in her family equation. And according to her cousins, her mother was the first witch to have ever married outside of magickind. This had been a child’s gross exaggeration; Liz would eventually learn that children don’t always say the truth.

However, it had meant Liz’s father was a muggle. He was named Bilal once upon a time, but now most people just called him Marra.

Truthfully, Marra had been a Libyan man with no magic but more street smarts than a clever boy should ever have. Armed with the gilded tongue of a seasoned conman, Marra was nothing if not crafty. He had escaped the Libyan Empire, smuggled himself into Europe. Stole, borrowed and bartered his way into England and never looked back.

And after her mother, an Auror, got sent to investigate a possible abuse of magical devices at an unauthorized location, she met him. He had been running an illegal underground operation, how he had managed to evade the magical authorities for so long was a mystery. But Marra would change the story everytime he told it.

To Liz, her cousins, the delivery guys, the customers at the store while he managed to charge them extra for a piece while they were too busy following his story. Everyone loved a love story, and that was what her parents had.

Marra had a jewelry store. There he polished rings and cleaned watches, while she sat on the floor of the room in the back with the cameras and looked over her magical creatures books. Her mother would bring her new ones after she came back from a mission.

**Number 2:** By the age of four, it was apparent that she was not like other kids. Liz had always been reserved. A quiet child. But then she’d stopped using eye contact or answering to her name.

The magical doctors didn’t have a name for it. Would give her potion after potion, which turned her skin green, made her nose grow to the size of an inflated balloon, left her hair like the aftermath of an electric shock. But it never made her fit in. 

After it all failed, her father stepped in, tried to be the bridge between her and the world. For the most part, Liz learned to cope with it, in the best way she could in the 1970s when people thought she was either mental or acting out.

And the fact that her father couldn’t come with her to primary, made it evident that Liz didn’t know how to talk to other kids. The muggle children that lived near her would call her “freak” or “weirdo”. They were cruel, especially when she talked about her imaginary animals, and laughed while she felt about to cry. 

When she’d run home, her mother would tell her that it takes a lot of courage to be anything but ordinary, and then take her to the magical zoo. The animals always made her feel better.

Liz had tried and tried. But she still didn’t understand people. Not like Baba, who could swoop in and charm a room. Or like Mama, who people naturally gravitated towards. Liz was awkward. She’d say the wrong thing. She would burst in defense of creatures. Be loud in places she should be quiet. Be quiet in places she should be loud.

Yet these creatures were her only friends and in them found her objective in life. Liz would become a magizoologist. No, she would become the greatest one in world.

The day she announced this to her father, he smiled and told her, “if anyone can then it’s gotta be you”.

**Number 3:** The day her mother died, it felt like the sky fell. For a moment, all the sound in the world warped into a single-minded pause and there was only static. Liz thought the world ended on May 12th. 

Liz was introverted as a child, but after this, she stopped speaking for weeks. And her father was left raising a daughter who had spurts of magic happening every now and then. Like all magical children, there were times when unexplainable things happened.

Spoons flew out of Baba’s hand and out the window when Liz didn’t want to eat her porridge. The sheets on her bed mysteriously wrapped around her like a self-made burrito. She bounced right on the gravel when she fell off the third floor window of her great aunt’s house in Surrey.

Marra did the only thing he could think of, he gave her space. Allowed her brooding in peace and did his best to steer anyone who would burst her safety bubble away. Liz was not ready for people, so she didn’t question it.

However, she was proven wrong when she found an injured moke in the bushes by the park close to the house. The green-silver lizard would shrink itself when it got spooked or too many people where around. Baba never saw the moke so he must’ve thought he was imaginary for the first three months, but bought food for him anyways.

When the little lizard would scurry away from her for what she thought was no apparent reason, she wanted to shrink down to his size, curl up and cry. Didn’t he know she only wanted to take care of him?

She became conscious that Baba must’ve felt that way. When Liz asked him what moke’s ate since none of her books mentioned it anywhere, his eyes were bright and awed. Then she understood what the muggle doctors had meant when they said to put yourself in another’s shoes. 

It was true that she didn’t completely understand people or what they felt, but she could share this suffering. Little by little, a man called Marra and his daughter grew into a family again.

One day, Liz woke up, Balin, the moke, was curled up in her pillow and it was a good day.

The world did not end with Nellore Tuttle on May 12th. So there’s that, apparently she owed the universe a dollar.

**Number 4:** Creatures are the only ones that never thought she was strange. They didn’t get nervous, shifting eyes when she didn’t laugh at the punchline or when she answered a question that wasn’t really a question.

With magical creatures, they didn’t judge or tease her. There wasn’t a single one that she couldn’t find something beautiful and worth protecting in them.

\-----

So after all this. After all those years, for Liz to find herself at Hogwarts just steps away from her passion, she thought it couldn’t get better. But even at Hogwarts, there were kids who didn’t like her. It wasn’t new. Whispers followed her everywhere she had ever gone.

Her ambition had named her Slytherin and there were some who hated her lack of interest in blood status or their ideas of sociability. When they called her Lizard, she didn’t flinch. It took a certain kind of courage to be anything but ordinary. And she would not apologize for her love for these wonderful beings.

But Liz hadn’t expected Eva, or Gudgeon, or even Merula to become her friends. For the first time in her life, there were people who wanted her around.

When Liz got home, Marra was buzzing about Christmas food and last-minute shopping. “Are you feeling like turkey or ham this year?”, he said, dropping her bags on her bed and stretching, “phew! I swear they make school bags heavier nowadays”.

Liz furrowed her brows, “I think it has more to do with you getting old”.

“You really know how to put a man down”, Marra said, laughing. He interlaced his hands behind his back and stretched upwards.

Liz began taking unpacking, “I’d prefer that we had ham”. She moved methodically, and began putting away her clothes. The little pen that used to belong to Balin was still there. Liz took out Mr. Ribbetts and let him hop around.

“Can we get an owl?”, she asked. It was funny that Liz was so orderly when it came to packing and unpacking, yet her room would become a mess in a few days. Only she would be able to decipher where anything was. “Why do you want one, sokar?”

They hadn’t owned one since Nellore’s girlhood pet died five years ago. Back then, Liz thought that it would have been like trying to replace pieces of Mama. Gena was her owl – all ruddish brown and familiar.

Liz was smiling, “I want to write to my friends”. Marra had to screw his eyes close and let out a shuddering breath, “you can get ready, and then we can go get one after you eat something”.

Some days, she had a feeling that she was unravelling secrets that she hadn’t considered about the human condition. But right now, she was sure that it was pride that shone in his eyes.

\----

The Christmas Eve party at the Gudgeons was like it always was, and Ismelda thought that it meant they’d be stuffed into some backroom with a dumb children’s show and appetizers while their parents chatted and mingled. Turns out this year, she got to walk amongst the chosen.

Usually, Ismelda chose to stay close to the corners and walls, while avoiding conversation with her “peers”. However, not talking because some stupid play for ninnies is going on is simpler than with a ballroom full of people that see right through her.

“Come here often?”, a low voice against her ear. The hairs at the back of her neck stood up, and she fought the chill that wanted to rush down her spine.

Instead, she looked over and fought to keep an impassive face. Dressed in what she’d call a pony suit in the privacy of her own thoughts, was the golden-haired Adger Selwyn. “Last I heard, you were supposed to be north of Europe somewhere”, she couldn’t help that she was somewhat content that he was here. 

_At least, I don’t have to face these vultures alone_, “well, I hear lots of things, Iz”, he said. Calling her Iz on purpose because she hated it.

It was odd how they had some unlikely acquaintance. He was a peacock of a boy, perfectly willing to stand on the pedestal his parents held him at. Simply because he enjoyed being coddled, not that he’d admit it.

While Ismelda was both her parents frustration and their trophy to showcase. But long ago, she had chosen to bear with it. Simply because she could ask them for nearly anything and they’d oblige. Be it a golden chest or baby unicorn. Quite honestly, her father would very much prefer if she wanted something soft and fluffy like a unicorn. _Utterly revolting_, she thought, grimacing.

She gave him a look to set him in stone. “Oh, admit it. You _missed_ me”, he said, leaning into her. Yes, perhaps she did. But that was none of his business.

“Adger, why don’t you go jump off the mott?” not her brightest remark but the delivery made up for it.

Ismelda should have seen it, “Oh… Adger, is it?” said what could only be described as the insulting drawl of one Michael Gudgeon. Looking to the suddenly appearing figure, it appears, he was accompanied by Eva. _Fuck the gods_, she thought, and couldn’t help the look to the irritated look to the ceiling.

“Don’t be like that, Gudgeon. It appears they’re _close _friends”, Eva teased. Somehow this was worse.

Gudgeon’s existence was a wrong that needed to be corrected. Of course, he’d find something to pester her with. “Do move on quickly, I see. Isn’t that right, dear Shellycoat?” he sounded so satisfied with himself, and had they not been in public then she would lunged forward to commit some good, old fashion battery.

But Adger stepped in instead, “my sympathies, Gudgeon. I see that your mother had to strip the curtains of the south wing to make that poubelle you’re wearing”. Eva snorted, and had to reign in a laugh, “Jack, how vile of you”, not meaning it at all.

While Gudgeon’s face inflated like a puffed fish, “you dandy little git-” “-Easy now, I’m sure Jack was just being sly”, Eva cut him off before he punctured an artery. “What-ever do you mean, Eva love?”, Adger was laying it down thick. She shot him an amused look, and then went back to pacifying Gudgeon.

“It’s always the same with you. You think you’re so clever with your French words and Persian suits. I get it! You think you’re better than me. But clearly, you aren’t. You’re the one slumming it with Murk here after all”, Gudgeon ranted, face all-red and Eva shrunk a bit away at a time.

While Adger looked actually stunned by this, Gudgeon threw quip for quip. Never getting actually angry. “It’s actually Italian”, Adger said in a small voice that surprised Ismelda.

“What?”, Gudgeon asked, anger still in his voice. Some people had looked at them because of the commotion, and were whispering. Ismelda was feeling second-hand embarrassment and thought of what she could say to move the attention away from them two.

Yet Adger still answered, “The suit. It’s Italian. Not Persian”. _How is that relevant?_ She briefly questioned, before turning to Eva. “Isn’t this when you generally swoop in?”, Ismelda couldn’t help the slight acrimony of her voice.

Not that Eva seemed to care. She never did. Just another thorn at Ismelda’s side, how easily she recovered and answered, “Me? I have nothing to do with this?”, Eva said, gesturing to the two boys, “also, this all happened because Jack here, decided to save you from a little harmless teasing”. Eva shrugged, and once again the spotlight was on Ismelda. The boys turned to her. 

Adger grabbed a goblet of whatever sparkling liquid they had been serving, and sipped away from her. Eva smiled delightfully, and Gudgeon sneered, “why, yes. That is what we came over in the first place”. _I despise these two._

She’d never admit it but she hated being put on the spot. “Listen, can it, you discount hobbit”. She was easily, a head taller than Gudgeon and stared down at him. Regardless of this, Gudgeon would just look back not giving an inch.

“Here you are, darling”, a woman said in a dark burgundy dress, by way interrupting their pseudo-spat. When Ismelda looked, she thought, _well, she is beautiful_. If beautiful meant symmetrical faces and brilliant smiles. Then she was that.

The woman had a pleasant voice and warmth in her eyes as she looked at Eva, “I was just here with my friends, from school”.

“Why, hello then. I am Genevieve, Rosier”, she said turning to them, “and you must be some of the young ones we’re expecting at the Manor this weekend”. Something tugged at Ismelda’s core, she didn’t know why.

“Well, actually I doubt you’ll be seeing me, as no one bothered to let me know of these plans”, Adger answered, not rattled by standing in front of Mrs. Rosier.

Eva wrapped her arm with his, “that’s because you decided to skip out on us without another word. But seeing as this is perhaps the last we’ll see you, there’s no way you aren’t coming. Isn’t that right, Gudgeon?”

Ismelda’s nemesis nodded smugly, and looked unimpressed at her non-reaction.

“Gudgeon? Your mother didn’t mention a son”, Mrs. Rosier said thoughtfully. Most likely she had just came by from the hostess table.

Wonderfully though, Gudgeon seemed to shrink down a bit, “have you spoken to Aunt Melpomene? I last saw her with the Minister. Quite a hat she’s sporting, wouldn’t you agree?”

Not before long, Mrs. Rosier’s attention was elsewhere, “I haven’t had a chance to see them. Have heard a thing or two about it, I’ll head over there now. See if this cap of hers is all it’s cracked up to be”.

And with that, Mrs. Rosier flitting away. Adger looked a bit disappointed but Ismelda could not be bothered to feel any sympathy for this two-timing prat who can’t even be trusted to stick up for her.

\------

Merula is left alone in her house.

When she arrives home to the dark, drafty manor, the house elf looks up to her with big, watery eyes and tells her that he was instructed to only come by a few times per week. “Very well. Then I’m going to my room. Have the dinner brought up to me”, she tells him coldly.

Something goes numb inside of her. “Yes, Miss Merula”, he says popping out of sight, with her trunk. 

Her aunt had gone away on holiday to the south of France, and Gaffi, the house elf, travels between the two houses, maintaining them.

For the next few days, Merula eats when she’s given food, cries at night, and writes to Eva.

> _Eva,_
> 
> _It is me, again. I don’t know if you knew this but the word potion comes from the Latin word “potio” which means drink. But it is likely that you did not know this because it would require for you to open up a Potions book and you would fall on a spike before doing something so sensible._
> 
> _I hope you were not actually expecting me to go to Gudgeon’s little soiree. I didn’t go for the last eleven years of my life and I am not about to start now. There is not a chance in the burning pits of Dante’s hell that I would. _
> 
> _By the way, I was reading Dante’s Inferno. It’s very morbid, but fascinating stuff. Do you believe that when we die we are sent there? Do souls really journey through this? – I don’t know why I am asking you. It’s not like you’d ever read something like this._
> 
> _Lizard has been sending me letters too. She keeps giving me updates on her bloody frog’s bowel movements. Someone needs to explain to her that you don’t broadcast that shite like that. _
> 
> _Anyways, take care or whatever. _
> 
> _Merula_

Most times, she does not mail the letters. They stack up on her night stand, and she re-reads then passionately. Sometimes, she does send them away. However, that white-haired airhead writes her religiously, sometimes twice per day.

This is also the reason why perhaps she should’ve seen it coming when she heard a knock on her window. Merula thought she was imaging things, went over to her window anyways.

There on what appeared to be Eva wearing all black, which was a first. She was mouthing something, lifting her hand in an open and shut motion. Merula was still very much shocked to respond. So, her ghost began banging open-palmed on the window.

Right about now, Merula felt a lot of things all at once. One, her heart dropped. Two, her blood pulsated through her fingers in an erratic steel pan rhythm. And three, her eyes kept blinking.

She opened the window, and sat on the sill to get a little closer. “What in the bloody hell are you doing here? It’s eight in the bloody night”, she found herself saying. Truth be told, she didn’t have a lot scheduled. She was just going to go down the library downstairs and read until she was tired enough to go to sleep.

“You haven’t been answering my letters, so I thought I’d come by. Say, do you want to come to my dinner party tonight. Well, it’s my mum’s. But she won’t mind”, Eva said, flying close to the sill. Merula hadn’t noticed but she was on a broom, “you _flew_ here? What a maniac! What if some muggles saw you?”

“Quit being such a stick-in-the-mud, Mer. Nobody saw me”. It was a shock that this girl had survived this long, she had no sense of consequence. “But what if they had?”

Eva rolled her eyes, and held out her right hand, “are you coming or not?” Merula look over the window and down the manor. Her room was in the third floor. That wouldn’t be an easy fall if this twit didn’t hold on well enough. And what if Gaffi came by and she was gone? Would he tell on her?

B-bump, b-bump. Her heartbeat clear by her ears, Merula took a breath and willed her every doubt away, “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” She carefully reached out to Eva’s shoulder, bypassing her hand and lifted herself from the sill to the broom.

In all fairness, she thought she was about to die when the broom dipped and Eva had to snap it back into steady floating, “my hand slipped”, she said guilty of obviously trying to kill Merula.

“I knew I’d regret this”, Merula said, clutching onto Eva with a death grip. “What a drama queen”, Eva muttered, and she leaned forward to speed away. Merula shut her eyes tightly and held on, _this girl is a health hazard. _

\-----

It should be understood that Barnaby is for the most part good. At least, he has always tried to be.

A good sport, always willing to go along with whatever you wanted to do. A good helper, never questioning on whether he should help out. A good listener, would hear you out, for as long as you needed him to.

All in all, Barnaby has been good all of his life.

Painstakingly so, even. In truth, it may be because he has been justifying his existence his whole life. You see, Barnaby’s grandfather never forgave his daughter for running off with a half-blood man.

And when the demands of his mother were too much, the man formerly known as his father ran off; leaving Barnaby and his mother alone to fend for themselves. Which meant that they now lived in a level of middle-class quaintness mixed with a lower upper-class lifestyle. They lived in a wizarding village named Widow’s Teeth about forty minutes away from Leeds, since his grandfather didn’t want to house them.

Or better said, refused to. Since fifteen years did not make his anger settle any better.

“Mother, do we have to go to the dinner at Grandfather’s tonight”, he asked, adjusting his collar again, and trying to have it not choke him. “Because he is expecting us to be there. He is hosting an important diplomat from Germany tonight”, his mother answered, fixing her hair for the eleventh time.

His grandfather would not house them, but he paid for everything in their house, from their bills to their clothes. Barnaby knew this, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Now, be a good boy, and get the Floo powder for Mummy”, she waved him off, her voice sweet and warm like how it always was.

He was an only child. Barnaby knew that his mother had never worked a day in her life, she wouldn’t start now. One day, he’d have to take care of her. Until then, he could make the effort for her.

With experienced ease, he located the powder and went back to her room to hand it to her. She smiled, stood up and walked to the fireplace downstairs. Then grabbed a handful and held his hand as she said, “320 Herington Way”.

The house was old. It was the first thought Barnaby had when came by for the first time, three years ago.

To understand his hesitation to come to his grandfather’s house, you must understand the following: His grandfather hated muggles. He thought the Dark Lord had the right ideas, even though he didn’t agree with how he went about it.

Long ago, he had had an uncle. He had been a Death Eater. Perhaps, no further explanation is required.

But now, in a room full of government types in his grandfather’s house, he felt so alone. Barnaby had been alone for so long. That was a constant in his life.

There were a few other constants: his mother’s obsession with living up to her father’s expectations, his grandfather’s desire to purge the muggle out of Barnaby, and him never quite living up to whatever they expected of him.

So it was good that Barnaby had been good for most of his life. He did what he was told and didn’t question it all too much. But sometimes, he’d feel that he was wrong. That he shouldn’t have done something, or didn’t want to.

His mother would always push him. To say this, or act like that.

His grandfather would always expect from him. To do the same as he.

“Can you believe what that shameless Rowle did?” “The one that got mauled by that vampire?” “No, his sister” “No, what?” “She was over by a tavern. It appears that with some _muggle boy_ from Lancaster. Can you imagine?” A gasp, “as if her poor mother hasn’t been through enough disgrace”. They were gossiping right behind Barnaby, but he wasn’t paying attention.

With all honesty, he was trying to make it through the night with having the least amount of questions thrown his way. What were they going to ask? How was school? He was failing most of his classes. When it came to reading and writing, it was hard for him. To even put into words how he felt left him bumbling and stumbling for words to grasp on.

How are you holding up? He didn’t know what to say. How to express his thoughts. Or whether he thought at all. He had been raised to listen. To follow orders and fit into a mold.

Barnaby was a lost cause to many.

He was big and strong, and easily compelled. But he didn’t want to just be that.

At that stuffy party, he tried to shrink himself small enough to not be in view and quietly sat by a window, and wished for the winter break to be over so he could return to Hogwarts. Failing or not, it was better than this.

\-----

Ismelda does not smile, often.

In the prime of Christmas time, her mother huffs around in her 3-inch heels and dramatically dictates to their house elves. Raging and ranting in preparation to attend a party, here or there.

She’d fling almost anything within reach to the poor, whimpering servants and Ismelda couldn’t bring herself to care.

_Better them,_ she thought. Lale’s words cut into her like a scalpel, and always left her wound unstitched. At best, it was words.

She sat by the fireplace in the sitting room, and didn’t flinch as the vase flew across the hallway and crash onto the wall near the door closest to her. “Just what do you think you’re doing? You incompetent pest”, she heard her mother yell. And closed her eyes and focused on what she was writing.

The painting in the room rolls his eyes, showing his distaste. “Can’t you use a silencing charm?”, her cousin Halvor asks, holding his hands over his ears. He was dead now, a casualty of war. But her mother had kept his painting regardless. She said, “we can’t simply throw him out”. As if Halvor was really alive in that painting and not just a piece of him, in time, inside.

“I’m a first year. They don’t teach that until well into Year Three”, she retorted, not bothering to look up. “If you were any brighter, you’d figure it out on your own from now”, he told her.

And she ground her teeth, “if you were any brighter then you wouldn’t have gotten killed”. Halvor was Lale’s favorite nephew if that was even a thing. She had more photographs of him than of herself. Maybe it was because he had been the “pretty one”, in the family.

“Low blow, Izzie”, he responded petulant. Sounding exactly how she remembered him. What a boy to get on her nerves. “As if I had any say on how I went”, he said.

Which was true.

He happened to be in a shop that ended up nearly destroyed by the Aurors fighting the Death Eaters hiding out inside. What Halvor was doing there is a mystery, but what was apparent is he died. Not even fifteen and he died.

Perhaps that’s why she kept talking, “you weren’t no great genius in your time”.

An overexaggerated sigh later, Halvor answered “must run in the family then”. Then slumped to the side on the lofty chair he had been painted in. Ismelda ignored him, and scratched out what she had written out.

> _Maybe I should pick flower petals and _
> 
> _rob them of colors_
> 
> _Maybe that would paint me bright enough _
> 
> _for you to notice me_

After the war, many families were left in ruins. The Murks lost an aunt here, a cousin there. Even if just for the sake of appearances, everything was great.

Everything was normal now.

When the evening comes by, her mother had prepared to go to a white-gloved party for entitled, old women who think they are superior to everyone in society. Ismelda receives respite, as it is invitation only.

Which leaves her and her father to have dinner together.

He comments on her isolation. Tells her he doesn’t understand why she’s so antisocial. She says nothing, continues chewing slowly and doesn’t lift her eyes. He sighs, and moves to go to his study after he finishes eating.

Truth be told, his words cut perhaps deeper than Lale’s. With her, everything is about appearances; the surface is all that counts, how you are perceived. With him, everything is about who you are with; your circle decrees your worth.

But she’s never had friends.

Always wearing too dark colors and never smiling. One sharp expression always under her sleeve. Ismelda wasn’t much for socialization. Or better said people didn’t much like to socialize with her. Children didn’t usually like little girls that tripped them up. Stood taller than them, and looked ready to rip your head off at a moment’s hesitation.

Inside her library, she sat on an old wide-pane desk and wrote to her heart’s desire.

By the week of New Year’s, Eva writes Ismelda. She received the letter when the house elf popped in her room to drop off mail, and nearly gave her a heart attack. No one writes Ismelda.

> _Dear Ismelda,_
> 
> _How are you doing? Not the wittiest start I admit. But give me some credit, I’ve been awake for three days and I am starting to think that the shadow near my closet is a ghoul. _
> 
> _Anyways, dearie, I haven’t heard from you since you were by last weekend. I do hope that you did not take Janus’s teasing to heart. He’s a bonafide prat and you must’ve allow him to get in your head. Otherwise, he wins in the end. _
> 
> _Also, I was talking to Barnaby yesterday and it turns out that Titus may be on his way out of Mungo’s soon enough. Perhaps, we’ll see him back at school, next term. Do you think we should visit him? He must be awful bored inside of that dusty, old hospital room. We’d have to do some convincing to get Mer there, but leave it to me. I’ll try my best. _
> 
> _PS: Do write back. I certainly will. _
> 
> _Your dearest friend,_
> 
> _E. Rosier_

At first, Ismelda is surprised. It sounded perfectly in character for Eva to write her and also it was so out of character for Eva to write her. They never seemed to see eye-to-eye but apparently that didn’t stop her from not forgetting her.

_Did this make us friends?_ At school, Ismelda knew they hung out because Eva included their year’s Slytherins in everything she did. Never be alone, it had been drilled into them by the Prefects as they started classes. Bad things could happen to a lonesome Slytherin. Ismelda knew that.

So she never questioned it when Eva took Merula and Lizard nearly everywhere, if not then it was Barnaby and Gudgeon. It was just occasionally her. Always with others around.

This internal turmoil made her sit for hours, attempting to write a different type of poem. You see, Ismelda Murk’s hidden shame was that she has a diary. No, a journal. No. Book of poems.

> _There are no waves in Birmingham _
> 
> _All the fields left in drouth _
> 
> _Cybele’s fulham leaves the lonely souls_
> 
> _with no say; just the thirst._
> 
> _Justice claims, a new trial announced_
> 
> _Do call it hubris, or crime._
> 
> _Perhaps I was wronged not_
> 
> _A farmer grateful looks up to_
> 
> _Falling pikels_

Ismelda writes pikels. And then scratches the words. Crumbles the page, and flings it away. Only to write it over, and then rewrite the poem on another page. _Too obvious_, she thinks.

_How do I end it? _Staring at fifth draft of her latest source of misery. _What am I even trying to say? _She raked her hand through her hair and tried to imagine the completed poem. Imagine herself finishing it, so that she could finally go to sleep. 

For a moment, she looks over at the letter Eva sent, still piled up on top of her Olde English storybook. She lets herself slump over the desk and falls asleep.

After a week, she answers back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be published from December, if it wasn't apparent enough by the title. 
> 
> So, I guess, sorry for that bit.


	7. Don't Ever Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We see what happened after Peter Pan came to take away Wendy Darling.

It's funny how they got here. 

If the jump on the broom felt dangerous, the ride itself was much, much worse. Merula didn't think it was fair. Eva was both a great and a horrible flyer. Great at flying, horrid at steering, it appeared. "Keep you eyes on the road". She had never spent much time analyzing Eva's flying ability but it was clear that she would never play for the Team Green and Silver, since she can't even keep them away from branches. 

With her arms wrapped around Eva, Merula could feel her laughter, "maybe if you were in front of me instead of behind, perhaps the weight wouldn't be thrown off". If she was standing in front of her, Merula would've rolled her eyes. But she was pressed against her with a death-grip, and part of Merula wondered if her was just warm or actually blushing.

The idea of Eva holding on to her made the heat over her face creep onto her neck. _Why do you mean?_

While the other part wanted to question why. Yet Merula poured swamp water over that little leaf fire before it was allowed to grow big enough to reach other leaves. "Or you're just a shite flyer", Merula couldn't help herself. She had to spew some venom. It felt easy on her lips. Too easy. 

In response, Eva just hummed.

And it was almost enough to make Merula forget where she was for a moment. Goosebumps erupting on her arms, and she found herself fighting some invisible battle and losing. _I'll just... _Despite herself and every fiber of her being telling her to stop, she turns to look at the white hair, only a breath away from her face. This time, there is no clumped, matted mess. It's been combed out and laid elegantly across her back, which made the it seem like someone took a long time arranging it. Merula contemplates burying her face in the cloud of beauty or maintain some of her dignity.

"So moody... We're almost there anyways", Eva informs the night, Merula keeps quiet. Heart jack-hammering inside her chest, and finally decides to loosen her grip on Eva and move a bit away. One of Eva's hands catches onto hers and holds her wrist, "careful. A shite flyer won't catch you if you fall". There's that signature teasing and Merula let's her wrist be caught in that warmth. _This is okay, _she thinks, and it sounds more like a question than she'd ever admit aloud.

Instead of delving deeper into this thought Merula chooses then to become much more interested in the stark whiteness before her. If she were any braver, she'd pick a lock up and curl it around her finger.

But Merula is not braver. She settles for feeling the warmth of Eva radiating through her hand still clutching her wrist loosely and her dark clothes in that cold night. There is a gentle falling snow and Merula glances up, even in the night sky with only the moon to light the world, she could admit that this was somewhat wonderful. 

Only someone willing to say corny, lame things out loud would admit that, so instead Merula says, "that's what you said like an hour ago". Because she won't acknowledge the last bit, and summons all the childish pettiness in her voice meant to goad Eva into rushing faster. Because Merula was pushing her luck a lot, as is. Because she could've stayed in her house and spent hours reading or trying to work up the courage to mail one of the letters she hides away. 

Against any and all of this, Merula looks around at the slowly falling snowflakes. Through her light pajamas, she can feel the chill. From where she was she could see the white snow clinging to Eva's clothes, and from behind Eva's back she can hide comfortably enough to smile.

But her friend only heard the complaining, the awfulness of a girl with only bad things to say. "It's only been like fifteen minutes, you crybaby", something in her voice sounds familiar, almost like this conversation happened before. But there's an air to it, like she has that easy smile, as she dips and they nearly touch the ground.

Only for her to pull them up in the last minute. Merula admits that she was partly too shocked to react and let her heart drop thinking they'd crash for real. "I'm not crying", she ground out. The wind resistance feeling stronger, with Eva going faster and faster. One of Merula's hands reaches the back of the broom to grip the wood and allows herself to pray to Circe, promising gifts to a temple and performing rites every Tuesday for a month, if she survives this. 

Eva laughs, and it carries across the empty night, across the dark air. "No, you're just scared. Aren't you, Merula?", Eva whispered. It was now Eva's turn to try and get a rise from Merula. She knew Eva would try to wheedle a reaction,"what's the matter, Mer? A little flying's got y'u scared out of your wits?", she was teasing. Merula knew this, Eva did this to everyone.

But knowing this didn't make it any better. And once again despite her better judgement, she let it the the best of her. 

Embarrassment flooded Merula, and when Eva nearly flew them into a tree from her chuckling. Merula just snatched her right hand away from Eva's and and steered the broom, pulling them the other way. Here she was trying to get Merula to react, to scream, get mad. Anything. But she refused. No.

Merula did not hang on tighter to Eva. She did not admit to anything. Or raise her hackles. She did not answer any of the other questions Eva asked. _You won't get the best of me, _she promised herself. 

Yes, she could be reckless like Eva. Put on a stouthearted mask on and dive in to whatever idiotic stunt along with her, but this was performance. Deep inside Merula, she was still a Slytherin. Even if Eva forgot that she was supposed to be one too. And she would not allow herself to fall for this. Even if it was Eva. 

Perhaps her ghost understood that. Eva stopped asking her this and that gave her a cool look, turning her head to see her face. 

It was true that Merula had said worse things to fellow year-mates. Taunted and jeered. Endlessly mocked them until they cried, but somehow it felt important to not lose any ground on this battle. She meet her eye and Eva was who turned away, a small smile betraying what should've been a serious moment.

They landed, and it took Merula a moment to collect her bearings. Not that this slowed her ghost. Eva grabbed her hand and pulled her forward, "the house is up the hill, we'll have go up this way". She was rushing, for what reason, Merula wasn't certain. This so called dinner party should already be at full-swing. It was too late to start anything. 

Still she went, following behind this crazy girl just like she had so many times before. "You're not mad, are you, Merula darling?", Eva queried, voice underlined by something Merula couldn't name. "Mad about something you did? Why-ever would I be vexed with you?", admittedly, her sarcasm carried some acrimony. She just snatched her hand away and stomped along in the direction Eva had pointed.

"I was just messing around. I didn't mean anything by it", Eva called from behind her, trying to catch up. Thing is Merula didn't want to her to.

Regardless of what she wanted, she still stopped. Mouth slightly agape because dammit, there it was, the Rosier Manor. 

It should be noted that Merula and the rest of the Slytherin first year's were supposed to come over on the weekend. And part of her wanted to be excited but couldn't help being scared. _This is her house_. She was really there, standing before the this grotesque, architectural wonder.

Despite being admittedly beautiful, something seemed Gothic about the building. Dark and gloomy, and it reminded her of her (by comparison) smaller residence.

Though the Snyde family held a considerable amount of wealth and had always been a respectable house, as her mother had told her on several occasions. Merula knew they were pretty well-off. It was apparent when at Hogwarts, she talked about the unicorn her mother had owned or the sections of her house that she preferred (even though she'd never admit to anyone that she wasn't supposed to be at most of them) when people like Gryffindor's Weasley lived in absolute poverty (to her standards) or something akin to it like Hufflepuff's Cobris. With their patched-up robes and second hand textbooks, they were what poor looked like. 

Yet right now, this was making her question the size of her family's coffers.

Running past her, "Oy, Mer! This way!", Eva said, fanning her hand and guiding her near some giant stones on the side of the wall. Steadily convincing herself that just because the Rosiers were clearly showoffs who like big, freakish manors that regular people didn't live in. 

Pulling herself from her daze, Merula watched her pull it. And the stone block moved backwards revealing what looked like a darkened entrance. "This explains your proclivity for secret entries", Merula said, in a hushed tone. Knowing fully well that Eva heard it. When she was upset with the airhead, she paid more attention to her or none at all.

The great Rosier crouched and went in. Disappearing from view, leaving Merula in her pajamas in the chilled weather of Christmas-time gawking at what literally just looked like a dark hole in the wall. Eva popped her head out and waved at her to come forward, _well, this isn't the most dangerous thing she's ever convinced me to do, _Merula tried to reason with herself. 

_They made a deal with an evil spirit. _

So she followed, crouching inside and seeing nothing but darkness as she heard the entry move back to closing. Everything had been lightened up by the bright full moon and the outside torch lights around the Manor. "It doesn't hurt to know a thing or two about where you are", Eva said, but Merula couldn't see her, and for whatever reason she didn't panic at the darkness or the tiny space they were in. Growing up mostly alone at the Snyde Manor meant accepting that her world was made up of a handful of rooms and an occasional visit of another person. That was before though. When she'd sit inside her wardrobe and it would make her feel less alone.

_They stole the keys to school's caretaker's office. _

Their eyes were adjusting to the darkness, but still Merula reached for her wand. "Lumos", they both said, their wands out in front of them, "great minds think alike", Eva said, her face now visible and a wide grin in place, of course this is her idea of fun. The light was steadily beaming and incandescent, she appreciated what Flitwick said about maintaining a constant stream of energy to increase the amount of luminosity. And appreciated Eva's necessity to float around the room in Charms. It meant that when she returned next to her, she was still in formwork mode and directed Merula through the lesson within minutes. 

_They walked into a room with devil's snare._

An indiscernible part of her had her gaze follow the way Eva's eyes seemed to glow in the lightened space around their wands, but Merula would not fall prey to that part. Not once more in one night. "So are we going somewhere or you just wanna sit in the dark all night?"

_They lied straight to Snape's face._

Eva chuckles, still appearing to want to attempt being quiet. "C'mon", Eva said, tilting her head towards what looked to Merula as nothing but endless darkness. She fought the desire to sigh. The white haired girl went towards that open passageway of nothingness and her wand showed a stairway, as narrow and steep as the ones in her mystery novels. Her heart picked up, and Merula began to think about which one of Eva's precious pairs of shoes she'd destroy in retaliation. 

_They enchanted their class's quills to write out, "I Heart McFlickers", in Charms and never got caught. _

A thrill rushed up her spine, and Merula thought about how right now she was the protagonist in her own story. The hero caught in a foreign and forbidden location, moving towards the big reveal. 

_They switched the snitch before the last big game with an illusioned dung bomb and they didn't notice until the Seekers both clasped it and it went off._

They went up the stairs, and Merula looked at the walls, all aged stone with unlit torches, "wouldn't it make more sense to just cast a spell to light all the torches at once?", she asked, or better said, complained. This was very on-brand with her behaviour. 

_This is nothing compared to all that._

Sparing her a quick glance, Eva turned to look at Merula. Equal parts amused and exasperated by Merula's contrary disposition, "Why, do you know a spell that does that?" Eva retorted, turning into something like a tunnel to the left. Instead of responding to this with a reply Merula chose to ignore it. "The fact that you just happen to know where we're going....", Merula didn't finish the sentence. What's the sense? Some forgotten part of her was weary and alert.

"I've gone through here a hundred times over. Trust me, I know where we're going", Eva said, still leading the way. And Merula decided on melting the pointed red, French hard shoes that Eva keeps in its carrying case. She'd throw them in a broth of Liquefacta solution and watch as they dissolve. Merula smirks. 

They came to stop before a wooden panel, Eva's hand grazed across the left side of border and then pulled it back. Merula had to step back, and then went in after Eva. The panel closed back and looked seamless with the wall. 

"That's actually impressive", Merula couldn't help but say, "... in a 007 kind of way", Eva added. Merula was confused, if Eva turned around then she would've seen it on her face too. "007?", Merula asked the hallway, a wisp of a voice. More unsure than demanding. 

"Licensed to kill", Eva said in a deep voice, "blinding, yeah?" Clearly not grasping that Merula remained ignorant to what she meant by this. And sure, if she admitted to not knowing and Eva would explain it. Yet knowing Eva, she'd do it in a strange roundabout way.

Biting the bullet, "what's 007?" Merula said, commanding her beating heart to slow down and make the her voice still. Eva stopped and blinked, caught with widening eyes and then just fired off talking, "oh! it's this brilliant man who is a super-spy. It's his operative number. Sort of like a title, I suppose". 

"Super-spy?", Merula questioned. Eva wasn't making much sense, using undoubtedly muggle words like "super-spy" or "operative number". Whatever they meant. 

"Alright, so, Grace was throwing a wobbly while Father was trying to tell her she can't come to London with us. He was taking me along, so I felt her pain but I wasn't going to let it go all to pot-"

"What does that have to do with a super-spy?

"-I was just getting there. At London, some of Father's business partners took us to the most delightful place called a _cinema-_"

"I am still tryna figure out what this has to do with-"

"-and I'm trying to tell you the story. 007 is James Bond, he's a spy. It's, uhm, like... Something like a covert government official that goes on secret missions-"

"-so like a muggle Auror?", Merula asked, butting in. She couldn't help it, no one ever talked about muggles to her outside of saying how primitive they were. Eva growled out of frustration, and Merula nearly chortled. "Anyways, 007 is sort of like their version of a secret Auror division. If you want to get technical. And, Mer! Muggles have this invention called films. They're like enchanted photographs but have sound and go on for over an hour, not just one moment. It was bloody amazing. The film was based on a novel". 

Now Merula was interested, this story of a super-spy was originally a book. 

A door slams nearby, and Merula feels her stomach jump and Eva literally lets out a rush of breath. "My chest", Eva says, then grabs Merula's wrist once again and takes off to the left of the hall. 

"We can take the left wing, then the back stairs. We'd go up to my room without anyone noticing", Eva said, already pulling her along. She shifted her hand to be clasped in the other girl's, and it felt so wonderfully familiar.  
Eva offers no resistance to this and just squeezes before tugging her along. Merula does not mind being steered, she's too busy replaying the entire night's events inside her head. 

She realized that she forgot to ask about the tunnels. "Anyways, what was on the other side?"

Eva turns to look at her and scrunches her eyebrows. "By the tunnels", Merula provides. "The house", Eva answers. Both their voices are low, but understandable since they're close by. 

"No, I mean, what was on the other side of the tunnel we didn't take. We went left, but there were two ways", the mystery aficionado inside her was patching up an escape route and also trying to get as much information before the next twist.

"One side takes you in. The other takes you out", she responded, racing up the steps. A sound of a door opening and Eva slapped her hand over her mouth and the other over Merula's, eyes wide. Merula nodded, understanding it meant "be quiet".

Eva took a step towards the railing of the stairs and looked up, and then down, "it's down there", she mouthed. _The noise_, her mind provides. Merula moved closer to the railing and saw two people. A man, with what looked like red hair and someone who was leaning away from view. They were talking.

Merula looked at Eva, who had her eyebrows crunched together. A part of Merula wanted to ask if she knew them. If she knew what they might be talking about. But a bigger part wanted to get out of the back stairway. 

So she bumped her shoulder to Eva, snapping her out of her concentration and tilted her head up. Eva nodded and they made their way up, slowing creeping up. Their bodies newly plastered to the wall, to avoid making sound or being seen.

Merula knew about shadows, and tiptoeing away from where people could see her. She could do this just fine. 

\--------

Once they made it out of the stairway and into Eva's room, she took a deep breath.

"Do you always sneak away into the night? Or is this just a special occasion?", Merula asked, out of breath and panting. Eva got down on her rug and spread out like someone's favorite teddy bear. "You mind that I came and got you?", Eva asks, and Merula nearly tells her, _everything you do bothers me. More so with me. _

But Eva's eyes were glued to the ceiling, so Merula allows that thought to die. And that's right, Eva's ceiling. This was something Merula had to see for her self. 

Craning her head up, there it was. Constellations. Stars and dust and the darkened parcel they're weaved on. None of what she said prepared her for this. Eva's stories didn't do it any justice. This was absolutely magnificent. 

"Yeah, it kinda is, innit?", she heard Eva ask. Too entranced to questioned whether she spoke it aloud, Merula falls to the rug alongside her ghost. "What's it called?" she does not add, the constellation, because she thinks it's obvious. 

When an answer doesn't come she looks down at Eva, who must've felt it and looked at her, "everyone who sees it thinks the same". She is tracing invisible patterns that Merula doesn't understand, a faint light following her fingers and Merula's eyes widen. _What kind of magic is that?, _she asks with her eyes glued to the twinkling light. 

"That it's beautiful. You almost feel closer to the sky from here", Eva continued, sounding far away and sad.

Maybe somebody told her that once. 

Too many things at once, Merula chooses to focus on the forlorn look in her best friend's face. Something familiar switches around Eva, and Merula moves some of the curls that fell near Eva's face.

She was about to say something. But with Eva looking straight into her eyes, she both wanted to shrink away from the gaze and bask in the attention.

Blue. Eyes so blue that she could drown in them. 

And that was how they were found when somebody walked in. 

\------

"Finally found your skinny arse", Janus grumbles, lips pursed and eyebrows scrunched as he looks from Evie to the girl next to her. "Just who are you?", he asks briskly. 

He did not remember seeing this girl downstairs and she is definitely not dressed for the dinner party. Not that Evie was either. Dressed in all black, she must have changed out of the orange dress. Admittedly, Janus did not even know she owned any clothes without colours in them. 

"Just what are you doing here?", Evie asks, narrowing her eyes like he is the odd one in the room. Like if she didn't up and disappear only to appear in her room looking like some muggle garrison. Like if there wasn't some girl he had never seen before in her bedroom. "What am_ I_ doing here? Aunt Gene commanded that I locate you since you so unceremoniously _bloody disappeared_", he exasperated. 

The little twit sighs. She has the nerve to sigh dramatically. As if this was the world's most wearying task, "Janus, must you really carry on in this way?" Like a dancer, she flows in her motions as she rises and spins away from him. Janus takes a moment of trying to process how this twat really just walked away from the entire conversation, leaving him with the strange girl. He glances at her. She glares at him, and says nothing.

He decides that he's taking this up with the circus owner and follows after Evie.

Inside her closet, she is rummaging through hangers. "You are proper jammy that _I_ found you and", he motions to outside, where the girl is most likely still sitting glaring daggers at him, "if your _Grandmother_ would've walked into what I did then you can rest assure you'd spend the rest of the break at Sommeries", he whispered harshly. Not trusting the stranger to not attempt overhearing.

"What is it that you mean", she bites out just as harshly whispered. Breathes in, and appears to contain herself. "What-ever do you need, dearest cousin?"

Several emotions fluttered over his face, then he ground his teeth and leaned on the side of a panel of her closet. "Why, yes, darling cousin. I need you to go downstairs so I do not have to fend off the relatives by my lonesome. They won't buy any further excuses much longer. Aunt Gene will have your arse for vanishing, that's for sure", he told her, closing his eyes and trying to rationalize what to do next.

"Mother will be fine. She was having a marvelous time as the lady of the hour. Certainly she won't be so hung up about little ol' me", a dismissive tone, and Janus misses the hard swallow Evie does as she turns towards a cabinet. 

Instead of pressing on that further, he switches to asking, "Who _is_ that? It better not be...", he stops himself. Saying it aloud makes it real and he doesn't want to believe it. "That's my best friend", she answers, looking as petulant now as she was during her terrible two's.

"Best friend, huh? From where is this friend? What's her name? Why wasn't she invited", he questioned. 

"Yes, she is my friend. Her name is Merula Snyde, and I don't know what you are alluding to", Janus could laugh, his little cousin sounded as outraged as some wittered matron. But Snyde. It meant she was at least of the decent sort. It explained why he hadn't seen her earlier. The Snydes didn't mingle much in Magical Britain. "Very well", he let out, still processing all this.

The little white-haired brat turned to him and squared her shoulders, "now are you done with your inquisition? I do have to change for this party".

\-----

After Janus left the room, Eva brought a change of clothes to Merula. "You'll stand out some in your nightwear, I'm afraid", all the humor back in her eyes. Eva was glad that Janus had finally left, she was ready to hex him into unconsciousness if it had to come to that. 

"It was brass monkeys out there. You have to be feelin' a little cold", Eva tries again, Merula finally looks away from the ceiling and to her. "Just a little chill. Nothing too serious", Merula says, and Eva feels grateful enough. 

"You brought me along for some party. As in, actually _flew_ me here so I'd go to this with you?", Merula asked, and Eva wondered if she wanted the truth or something beautiful. 

Before Eva could get some words out, Merula started to take off her pajamas and Eva got stock still.

The Wizarding World didn't hold the same proprieties for undressing in front of each other, at least not as children. Honestly, it was quiet odd. Ben had squeaked and blushed fire red when she tried on the Prince t-shirt he said his mother bought for her, when she snuck into the Gryffindor boy's dorm after getting the all clear from the Bloody Baron to figure out more ways to charm the Walkman into working. The Baron grumbled the entire time but assisted her either way. 

Ben told her that you don't just undress in front of people. To which she rolled her eyes and said obviously, but they were mates so what was the harm. Eva had played dress-up with her cousins and playmates for years and no one had ever bat an eye. Not them, not their parents, or caretakers.

None of the muggle prudishness had ever affected her, so why was it that seeing Merula changing felt like something private she needed to look away from. Eva didn't though. She reasoned that if she did, then it would alert Merula to her inner thoughts.

"Do you need some help with the ribbon?", she asked, her hands already reaching for the buttons and then began to tie the sash. Merula just wordlessly accepted the assistance, most likely unimpressed by it all as she probably didn't know muggles don't change in front of each other. Apparently ever.

Once she was done, Eva smiled widely and held Merula's hands, "you look absolutely lovely". Merula blinked quickly and then turned her head, but didn't snatch her hands away. Taking this as a good sign, Eva smiled brighter and hooked an arm in Merula's, "having you here just made this entire affair feel not so dreadful. I have a good feeling about this". 


	8. Benjamin Britten, Take One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben The Brave and some other unusual tales of Year One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can call it a filler if you absolutely want to. Mostly it's a way to introduce other characters so you begin painting a picture of who is where, when. 
> 
> Even if they aren't in Slytherin, because... why not?

* * *

* * *

_ No. Yes. No. No. NO. Yes.... Maybe._ Ben Cooper was standing facing the gigantic silver fruit bowl painting on the kitchen's corridor, beside the barrels that led to the Hufflepuff Common Room vacillating between running down the dungeon to knock on the door at Slytherin to ask for Eva or heeding caution and accepting that upon inspection of the red on his cloak he'd be hexed to kingdom come. If the door was ever opened, that is. 

He had walked the stretch of the basement to the dungeons and back, twice. All that he saw was a long stretch of stone with a narrow door which looked no different to Ben as the one leading to Snape's office, but the ricocheting in his heart was enough to make him turn around. 

The sound of barrels rolling and stone moving made Ben jump and he only had a second or two before the Hufflepuff entrance opened and a single girl came out. She saw him, and he saw her. Frozen in place, Ben contemplated making a run for it. Then decided that she looked like someone he could outrun and sprung out headed to the Marble Staircase. 

"Wait!", he heard the girl call out but Ben knew better than to bother listening. With his heart pounding, he wondered if his housemates were as wrong about the Hufflepuffs as they were about the Slytherins. 

He could hear footsteps behind him, and a familiar sense of dread mixed with fear nearly gripped at his rib-cage. 

Almost certain he had shaken her off his trail and ready to sprint off as he made it to the Astronomy Tower, yet he stopped at the sound of "Benjamin Britten!". Only one person called him that. He turned to see Eva, as bright and airy as he last heard. He let out a rush of air, and stopped his hot pursuit towards the safety of Gryffindor Tower. He had outran the Hufflepuff but somehow Eva caught up to him. Still a win in his book.

She ran up to him, "just give a second, will ya?" Out of breath and huffing, "you race a lot harder than you look". _Seems fair_, he thought, "but you _are_ built like a Victorian paperboy", he tells her, amused. Comfortable around his friend. Eva was safe. The white-haired girl laughs, and he can't help but smile a bit. 

"Oh, Benjamin!", she exclaimed. "How you wound me", dramatically falling over him.

They had returned from winter break, and classes were set to resume the following day. And it meant a lot of the prefects were distracted by the lollygagging of freshly vacationed children, which meant that it was prime time for Ben and Eva to work on the Walkman. He had gotten blueprints and a manual and he was sure that between the two of them they'd finally make it work. 

"I was looking for you", Ben Cooper said, as he shifted closer but stopped when he felt a chill run through him. _What was that?_, he thought, and stepped back. She looked at him, something fleeting behind her eyes before she settled on her heels, and rocking forward, "is anything the matter?"

Taking a breath, Ben felt his anxiety spike. That was an ominous feeling, he grabbed her sleeve and said, "I've got something to show you. Do you think the Baron will help me slip you in the dorms?" Unconsciously keeping a distance between them. 

Like a Cheshire cat in that Looking Glass book his mother used to read him, something glittered in her smile. "Baron? Saw him by the Great Hall, with the Fourth Years. Looked dull, whatever they were doing. But, show me? What is it?", Eva went on, walking in time with him regardless, keeping to the left, "is it a cursed item? Do you have a dark book? Did you get an owl?"

_Is that a Slytherin thing, _he wondered, as they went up the steps and she seemed to brim with enthusiasm. _She's excited over the possibility of a cursed item. Maybe some of the things they say about the Slytherins are true. _

"I'll go first", he said lowly, the hall was clear but there was no knowing who might be on the other side of the door, "please excuse my dear Aunt Sally", before the Fat Lady painting, who smiled and opened into the warm glow of the den. He had thought this was a silly password, but after a few months in Gryffindor he found that silly was just his new normal and cousined next to ridiculous. 

Appearing beside him, "If you were hoping I wasn't going to hear the password, you should have tried a little harder, _Britten_", she whispered in his ear and stepped behind like a shadow. Ben felt the slick cold run through him again when she neared, and decided to walk in. 

A positive about being well-known for cowardice in a house of brave-hearts is that they often forgot about you entirely. Like now, there were some near the fireplace but they didn't even spare him a look. Ben didn't question his luck, it wasn't the first time he'd ever snuck her in. 

While Eva moved like a specter, fluidly sliding from behind him to beside him. Following along with soundless feet, he contemplated if her steps had ever made any noise before. 

Once they made it to the boys' stairs that led to the dormitory, he grabbed her arm and sprung up. All this faked cool nonchalance was making his chest constrict in familiar fear. Eva sprang along with him, a narrowed determination in her eyes. Ben stopped suddenly, and she nearly toppled over but caught herself and planted her feet. More graceful than he ever had a right to be.

There were two boys walking out of their rooms, chatting loudly. Ben felt himself freeze, suddenly a lamp next to the older boys exploded with purple goo onto them. Eva bumped him and gave him a look, and they rushed past them. This was raw luck, and he wouldn't waste it. The goo on their heads and dripping off their robes, as they swiped aggressively to their faces, "bloody fuck!", one of the boys yelled, voice dripping in crossness. The other kept his mouth shut and rushed inside. 

Ben felt too damn scared to laugh at the way the taller boy's ears turned red as he cursed out to someone's mother, their father, their family colours. Whatever that meant. 

Eva swift as ever, had already went into the room. She gave him a crooked grin before the door swung open from their bathroom and she ducked under his bed leaving only Eva-shaped smoke where she once stood. 

"I'm telling you, it's all inside your head. Do you really think that a girl could really sneak past the stairs up the boys' dorms? They're enchanted to only let boys go up the boys' steps and girls go up the girls' steps. I've been trying to go up the girls steps for months. They turn into a slide and I get booted off every time", Thorin told Jae. "But I swear I saw_ a girl_", Jae groused, trailing behind a toweled Thorin. Patting his semi-wet hands on his trousers. 

Taking notice of Ben standing by the door, "Ben, he's been going on about a girl roaming the dorms. Can you believe this?" To which Ben could in fact believe, and all sorts of alarm bells rang inside his ears. _Please don't look underneath your bed. Please don't look underneath your bed. Please-, _Ben chanted in his head.

"Ben? You okay?", Thorin waved a hand over Ben's face and he blinked quickly, "y-yeah. I'm okay. Just... I remembered that we have Potions first thing tomorrow morning". 

Jae Kim groaned, and Thorin sympathetically shook his head, "don't even remind me. I swear, Snape probably bathes myself in virgin tears to prepare himself for "exceptional prowess of the subtle science and exact art" ". Thorin's imitation of Snape was one of the reasons that he was popular among the older years.

Being popular wasn't a thing Ben wanted. Certainly not in Gryffindor, where you needed to know how to take a joke as well as make one. And Thorin was a target for more than his highly-visible, bright hair. 

Right now it got him an eye-roll from Jae and nervous giggle from Ben, which they seemed to not pay much mind to. Ben was always sprung up about something. 

A soft snort sounded under Jae's bed and Ben stomped his leg, so the other boys looked at him in question, "are you certain that you're okay?", Thorin asked and Ben nodded jerkily, "y-yes, of course. I just- my leg went numb, I was shaking it awake", he said, literally shaking his leg. Leaning, with his shoulders tense, beside Charlie's bedpost. Not knowing exactly what to do. 

"That's not weird at all", Jae deadpanned, "but you stomped your left leg". The brunette boy said expectantly while Ben was still shaking his right leg, "umm, I...", Ben said, caught in the lie. "What's this about a girl?", Ben blurted out, grasping at straws, Thorin was standing in front of him and Jae was sitting calmly on his bed. Forcing himself not to look down at the duvet covering an actual girl in their room. _Maybe we should've just worked in the Artifact Room..._

Thorin collapsed on Charlie's bed, his towel wrapped around his waist and Ben looked away so as he wouldn't get blinded by something gruesome. Thorin declared, "not you too! This a greater fallacy than the quote on quote "natural glow" on Emily Tyler". 

"Why are you looking at Emily Tyler so hard?", Jae questioned, and just like that Ben thought they'd forget about the mystery girl. 

"Well perhaps if Charlie's brother ever shut up about her, I wouldn't have to-"

"-but who has you studying the girl to begin with?"

"I'm not studying her! I'm just- Quite frankly, sick and tired of hearing Bill Weasley wax poetic about her silky chestnut locks-"

"Mhm, that's the only reason", not believing him from his tone.

  
The back and forth between the boys was only interrupted by McLaggen flinging the door open, "meeting by the-"

"Would it kill you to knock first?", Thorin jumping up and adjusting his towel tighter around his hips, then covering his chest with an arm. A faux-attempt to conceal his modesty, Ben knitted his brows and watched in absolute horror as Jae pulled the towel off Thorin and heard the girlish scream that ripped out of him. 

McLaggen doubles over in laughter, "nice one, Kim", and turns to the hall, "aye, lads! Come see if Whitebourne's carpet matches 'is drapes", hollered, and Ben sensibly took a seat on the nearest arm chair and watched this car crash play out. Temporarily forgotten that Eva was under a bed and this much commotion couldn't be a good thing.

Thorin jumped for the towel, one hand covering his family jewels (not well enough) and Jae kept it out of reach, amusement all over his face. 

Then the black-haired boy balled the towel and tossed it over to Ben who got up and looked at it and looked up helplessly to see a bullish Thorin with pink creaking over the tops of shoulders, "over here", Rouster Fairfax burst in and yelled over. Ben threw it, not quick enough though, Thorin tackled him onto the nearest bed then sprung off and headed to the next boy with the towel. "I'm open", Zacharias Vane says, rounding one side, and Ben is still trying to convince himself that he wasn't just mauled by a naked Thorin Abbott. The vision of this would definitely haunt him at nighttime from now on. 

\------

"Thorin is the ultimate milquetoast", Jae announced to their room, his perfectly cuffed-dress shirt was unsettling but Ben was used to it by now. 

"Because he was embarrassed at having half the boys in the dorm abuse him over a towel drop?", Charlie asked, somewhat amused and reproaching. Ben was certain that Charlie wouldn't have kept up the hot potato game with Thorin's towel. He would've aimed for Thorin's face, perhaps, but not carry on like the rest of them did. 

Voicing his fears, Ben asked, "you think that Thorin is still mad?" 

"He's just sulking. Nothing to worry about it", Charlie said, kindly, lacing heavy boots covered in mud. If curiosity was his vice, he might have but there were things better left unasked and wherever Charlie disappeared to was most likely on a need-to-know basis.

Whitebourne had made himself scarce and Jae laid down on his bed unapologetically reading Thorin's diary. "He's prone to theatrics", Jae said, absentmindedly flicking a page, "did you know that Karasu and him fell out? She betrayed him or something-", eyes skimming through the horrible handwriting, while Charlie put on a heavy coat and brushed off Jae's behavior. 

Ben was slightly trembling, he needed to get them out of this room, so he and Eva could finally work on the Walkman, or get out of the room so his blood pressure could finally go down. "You'd think he'd learn to put some locks on that thing to keep intruders out", Charlie mentioned, tying a pouch to her waist. 

Tilting a page this way and that way, most likely trying to decipher scribbles, Jae hadn't noticed that Charlie was prepping to go off to some where, "perhaps, Thorin should've listened to-. Where are you going?"

A slight smile on Charlie's face, "shh".

Ben looked to the side, and saw Jae pursing his lips and barely concealing his annoyance. "You hear that?", Charlie asked, indulgent face on display.

"I don't hear a bloody thing", Jae declared, and Ben heard an aborted snort somewhere in the room and started feeling lightheaded, _she's still here._ How could he have forgotten.

Smirking at himself in self-satisfaction because for once Ben was appreciating his marvelous sense of comedic timing, Jae dropped the diary and looked over at Charlie. "That's the sound of adventure waiting to happen", Charlie declared and rushed out, with a slam of the door. 

"Well that happened", Jae said dryly. Halfway through expecting something more dramatic.

\------

"Those slimy Slytherins think they're so great just because they keep winning the Quidditch Cup", Jae bemoaned, while McLaggen ruffled through parchments and shook chests causing more mess than absolutely necessary but they'd have to deal. This was the Scot's version of a raid, as the prefects were to search all the dorms. Most likely they were after illegal potions or other contraband, all things First Years didn't have. 

"Bet they wouldn't get far if their bloody Seekers was such a cheat", Jae continued to complain, and McLaggen ignored him the best he could. 

Ben sat jittery and twitching, and McLaggen would have taken that as a tell but Ben was always jittery and twitching as far as he remembered. The boy was frightened of his shadow and got excited over safety protocols, the whiskey-coloured hair boy turned to the Weasley boy and Whitebourne's belongings. _Certainly at least Weasley would have something unsanctioned to seiz_e,_ while Thorin perhaps only had photographs of his mother like the giant baby that he was, _McLaggen thought.

"Are you gonna tell us what you're looking for?", Jae asked, unable to keep himself from being nosy any longer. "Not your concern, Kim", McLaggen answered, and Ben felt his heart beating against his eardrums wildly. The whole world narrowed down to his breathing, until he could hear his own heart. And he was certain he was going to die.

McLaggen was about to duck underneath the bed that held a Slytherin girl gripping her wand, ready for discovery and whatever came with that. But then Ben dropped.

She strained to listen. 

"Cooper, you alright?", the prefect rushed to the boy, hyperventilating and saw the frozen shock of Kim, "don't just stand there! Get some help, we need to carry him to the Infirmary". After this, Jae sprung into action. He ran out, and McLaggen grabbed a piece of hard paper and started blowing air into Ben's face, "don't worry, Shoogly. Everything will be alright. Simply proper, like they say, yeah?"

Two boys burst in, "is he okay?" "Take his legs, let's lift him up" 

"He'll be fine", McLaggen says, watching as Ben falls out of consciousness. "Kim, get the door. Weasley, his head", he directed. All three boys heaved him up and carried him along, "Well shite, for a skinny tyke he weighs a more a dragon's hide", Vane says, holding up Ben's legs alongside. "The dead and the drunk weigh twice as much", Jae said, and McLaggen only briefly registered this. 

"Yeah, s'pose we hope this won't have that in question", Vane answered, while balancing. Bill was patting down his pocket for the smelling potion his mother had given him after confiscating it from his younger brother's, _you never know when it'll come in handy_. "I have a smelling potion", he announced, and McLaggen nodded, "when we get to the Sick Bay, let's try and use it. Maybe he'll respond to it". Never stopping though. 

Jae watched in the hallway as they rushed down, a single minded team of three, "out of the way! Patient on board! I repeat, clear the way!", Vane shouted. Boys had come of their rooms to see what was the commotion and still this didn't stop them. They shouldered through, with Vane's hollering and Weasley's ramming through the crowd with steady determination, "move it or lose it, people". 

The figures of the boys receding from view, Jae walked back into his room. The spike of adrenaline still coursing through his veins. If not, he probably wouldn't have heard the slight shift. Jae turned his head and concluded it had to have come from the closet. So he slowly approached, hand inching towards his wand. 

"What the-"

Jae opened the closet door, and saw her. A girl. The girl.

And it all made sense now. The girl was Rosier. 

The shock of seeing a girl, that girl, rising to her feet was almost too much, he turned to rush out and scream out that she's real. She sprang up held Jae in a headlock, "careful, Kimington. Would want the wand of this _slimy Slytherin_ to slip, now, would you?"

Jae sees followed the wand pressed against his neck, perhaps already warming in anticipation to hex him. His hand had gone to pocket, and the heat of her wand stopped him, "I wouldn't do that if I were you". He swallowed heavily, and let out a shuddering breath, "I-I-I won't tell a-anyone. S-swear".

"I'm sure you won't because if you do...", she whispered into his ear. The girl didn't finish her sentence, she didn't have to. Jae tried to make himself breathe, artificially inflating his lungs. "Do you understand?", she asked, and he nodded._ She'll decapitate you. She's a ruthless Slytherin. She-_

"Say it", her voice firm. "Say you understand", gripping his neck with the elbow around it. And he swallowed, or attempted to as much as he could, trying to wet his dry throat enough to speak, "I-I... understand". 

"Very good", was the last he heard, as the pressure got heavier and everything faded to black.

\-----

They were getting ready to polish their brooms, when Merula's broom nearly flew up into her face, "for the love of Circe", she muttered. Michael Gudgeon choked on a cackle, more on principle than the glare Merula still managed to set him with. "Someone keeps tampering with my broom", she said, and Taft gave her an unimpressed stare. 

"We have flying with Hufflepuffs", Ismelda said, as if that made it obvious that this _someone_ was inside Merula's head. 

"So they're not capable of enchanting a broom?", Merula hurled in defense, her voice raising. Madam Hooch came over and stood behind her, looming like a dark shadow, "Miss Snyde, any particular reason for your disturbance?" This time, Gudgeon couldn't swallow the crow in delight at Merula's humiliation. 

Taft provided an answer, "Snyde is under the impression that the Chudley Cannons are going to win this week's game against Puddlemere United". His bored expression disguising the gleaming shine of his eyes, Gudgeon bumped his shoulder in camaraderie. "Is that right, Miss Snyde", Hooch said, and Merula tried to shrink herself down. 

Eva had been chatting animatedly with Titus and Barnaby on the next table, and stopped to look over on what was going on. 

Merula felt the hot scorch of shame waft over her as the inquisitive eyes of Hooch peered into her. In no way did she want to even be associated with the Chudley Cannons. It was true that Merula Snyde mayhaps not know much about Quidditch but she had learned enough about acceptable teams during the loud chants and arguments in the Common Room by the older students. Slytherins did not play about their Quidditch teams. 

"I...", Merula said, unsure of what to say. Leave it to Taft to stab her in the back like this. 

Hooch smiled softly for a second, "you don't have to explain your reason to cheer for your team. And the Cannons might surprise us still", almost kindly. Hooch nodded then turned around and started instructing everyone on the polishing technique they would use today. 

Something warm that felt much lighter on the skin, began covering Merula. "I must admit, Taft, you are quite the genius at inconveniencing everyone in the most subtle ways", Ismelda commented, she couldn't have reacted quick enough for that. And it so happens that the boy who moves the slowest was sharper than he was given credit for. 

"That's your team?", Eva asked, almost spooking Merula completely by the soundless steps she must've taken. "What? No-", Merula started. 

"Why didn't you tell? I'll get you some posters... Maybe some caps. I'll ask Mother if she can get us tickets to see them play", Eva started, grinning maniacally, while leaning forward. "Will you just drop it?", Merula grounded out. "Oh, c'mon, Mer. As your best mate, I am obligated to support your choices. Terrible as they may be", saccharine voice that Merula despised entirely. 

"And they say I'm bad", Ismelda said.

"You are in your category, Sea Witch", Gudgeon quipped. 

"I _am_ a witch", Ismelda retorted to him.

Gudgeon nodded, "from the deepest depths of the dark ocean, yes". And Ismelda snarled at him, nearly dumping her wax on him. This led to almost having a fight break out and dissolve when Hooch appeared, and they were buddy-buddy in an instant. Knowing full well that detention with her meant answering to Snape about why in the bloody hells did they break public Slytherin unity. 

They had to appear a collective.

The yellow-and-black students peered at them, in curiosity, in reproach, in annoyance.

The Slytherins mostly ignored the Hufflepuffs, and went through the motions that Hooch instructed. Merula watched as the pink haired freak chatted up Eva, and made her face shift to big nose, small nose, pointy, bigger teeth, gap toothed, wide-set eyes, bug-like wide bulbs, in a quick procession. Causing Eva to laugh at the multi-face changes and no doubt jokes. While Merula looked then just turned to her broom, Eva couldn't help but talk to everyone. This was just a fact of life, and today she wasn't going to bother with that.

\-----

Ben came to groggily in a bed at the Infirmary like coming out of a dream. 

"Wonderful! You're awake!", exclaimed the person, holding a hand to his forehead and upon succeeding in focusing his eyes, it appeared to Ben that he knew her. "It's you", he muttered, voice as weak as his body felt. It was odd how floaty and heavy his body felt. _The girl from Hufflepuff. The one who chase me_, his mind supplied without him asking. 

"Your memory seems fine", she said smiling then scribbling something down. Then she shining her wand near his eyes, "alrighty! I'll just get Madam Pomfrey and we'll find out if you are all good to go", the Hufflepuff girl said, cheerily. Perhaps a bit too enthusiastic for an infirmary assistant, but what would Ben know of this. _Maybe what they say about Hufflepuffs is true..._

The girl walked away, closing the curtain and leaving him to his thoughts. Ben closed his eyes and let the sweet relief of not having died rush through him. The world had closed in on him, and here he was - alive.

"When did you meet, Ginger Gerry?", a whisper came from Ben's right. Had he not been sedated, as he currently felt, Ben Cooper would've jumped like a newly woken kangaroo rat. Instead, he turned to see Eva checking outside the curtain, then turning back to him. "I met her when I went to look for you", he provided, mouth parched but knowing she'd demand an answer either way. She gave him a strange face. 

"How did she find out about the Artifact Room?", Eva asked, sitting down at the foot of his bed. "No, I went by Slytherin since I couldn't find Barnaby or Liz to get you. She was coming out of Hufflepuff", Ben answered, it felt weird to talk. He tried sitting up, and felt the floatiness carry along in this new position. 

The impossible happened, Eva looked absolutely shocked and Ben felt something strange in his chest. A glistening smile spread across her face, "You-you _actually_ went to _Slytherin_ to look for me?", disbelief in every word she said, "holy Merlin, Ben. You know, for what it's worth - your'e a lot braver than you look". There it was again, that strange sensation. _Pride_, his mind provided. He couldn't recall feeling it before. 

That was perhaps the most unexpected thing to say to Ben. He blinked owlishly at her, and for once didn't feel the gripping fear consuming him at this terrifying, wonderful world of magic. 

"You just happen to come by when I woke up?", prompting more conversation. Ben was pretty comfortable were he was, but didn't mind the company. 

"Been checking on you. Well, sneaking in to check. After class, and whatnot", she said, grabbing a bookbag he hadn't seen before and taking out a stack of papers, "you were out cold from yesterday". Eva handed him the papers, and he absentmindedly took them, "those are the notes for Charms, didn't think you wanted to fall behind". 

"I hear you've finally returned to us, Mister Co-", Madam Promfrey swooped in, opening the curtain and stepping in. The Hufflepuff half-a-step behind her. She cut herself off then turned to Eva, who was looked at him for a beat then inched away from her while giving a slow shrug with an innocent smile, "Miss Rosier, what are you doing here? I already told you. No unauthorized visits. Mister Cooper needs his rest".

"And, I was just - I just going, now. Preferably", Eva added in quickly, and Ben watched as the exasperated crinkle of Madam Pomfrey's brow marred her serene face. 

While Eva couldn't be less the wiser. Or at least it appeared so. She looked as butter would not melt in her mouth. Moving away steadily, until she reached the curtain and waved, "anyways, always a pleasure. Britten", she said giving him a bow of the head, "Madam", another to Pomfrey, and looking at Hufflepuff. Guileful eyes looked at the redhead. A pause, then turned that smile he'd seen before, and turned to leave. The curtain swishing with the force of her getaway. 

"Now, let us check to see if everything is in order here", the matron said, returning to her motherly calmness. "Geraldine, could you please fetch me the potions for Mister Cooper in the meantime", she said to the older girl next to her, trying to catch sight of every movement of Pomfrey's wand casted a green scan over Ben. 

The girl nodded quickly and Ben watched her go. Somewhat convinced that he maybe should of stayed asleep a little longer. 


	9. To Be Pure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merula comes face-to-face with an unlikely scene. The First Years receive a surprise guest. And life becomes a bit more complicated at each turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't forget this story. I just forgot where I had saved the chapter. Ups, I guess.

Just as some perturbed dream scene, Evie laid on the grass near that big tree they had spent hours in the Fall term lounging by. What was so disturbing, at least in Merula’s mind, was them lying there next to each other while she thought that if this was the last day on Earth, she wouldn't mind. The sky itself could collapse itself, falling into the world and destroying everything along with it.

Merula would still not mind. 

Every part of her self-preserving behind wanted to recoil at that thought. But here she was, closing her eyes and listening to the leaves rustle in the wind and distant chirping of birds. It was evident that Evie had succeeded in infecting her with these ridiculous delusions. _Soon enough, I'll be an airhead just like her. _

Despite all this, Merula took a moment to look at the white hair curl around. The quiet winter wind not completely gone with them at the end of January. _It was 1985_. Time was moving swiftly. They had met in September and now they were the best of friends. Inseparable. _She__’s the first friend I've ever had. _

She thought about Rosier Manor, hideaways, and matching sweaters for moving photographs, tucked away in the box of memories she was forming. Precious things she was holding on to. The gift still not handed over, in its unwrinkled wrapping hidden away with all her pass-around courage. 

The image was serene, peaceful even. Ismelda had been off at the library with Liz, continuing Murk's decision to find Salazar and take an interest in her studies. Something Merula was certain would not last long enough to reach exams. Which quite frankly, she was counting on. Without the sea-witch sucking all the air in the space with her antagonism and Lizard filling it with unnecessary drabble or forcing them into debates Merula would rather finish in a duel, this should be what peace feels like. At least, it's the closest thing to peace this Snyde had felt in a long time.

“Do you think it'll always be like this?”, Merula breathes out, opening her eyes in alarm. She hadn't realized that she would say it aloud, to Evie. The familiar heat of mortification begins licking its way up her neck. 

“Sadly, no”, Eva says, and the heat intensifies, covering her face. 

“The Daily Prophet said that it was clear skies today, so it is bound to rain”, Eva said, and Merula took a chance and looked to her. Her blue eyes looked cerulean and she gazed up at a darker sky. _Cerulean? You really are filling your head with glitter and nonsense._ “We should enjoy it now. It won't last”, Eva finished. 

Merula wondered what it was like to have eyes the colour of a clear sky. Did everything seem brighter? _What's it like to be you?_

\-------

“Where are you going?”, Merula asked Eva, mid-step. Her ghost was slipping away, without warning. She didn't even wait for Merula to finish packing up from Potions before she nearly sprang out. This wouldn't work, Merula wanted to know where Evie went when no one could find her. 

_Quite presumptuous aren’t we?_, a mocking hiss inside her head said. Eva owed no one an explanation, and usually Merula chided herself when she’d try to get one.

“What do you mean?”, Eva said, twirling to see her. Merula carrying all her instruments, haphazardly tucked away. She looked to how Eva bounced up and down on her heels, impatient. Merula narrowed her eyes, Eva’s wide eyes were the portrait of innocence. 

“Where. Are. You. Going?”, Merula tried again, slowly. She asked for a reason, because she was weak. A true coward. Evie owed her nothing, but still she tried to steal a piece more than what she was offered.

Part of her, was beginning to accept that Eva would always run. Away. Towards something. Someone. Somewhere. 

And sometimes, she was that someone. But not always. 

No matter what, Merula would force herself to return to that.

Not today, though. Today, she could be selfish. She could demand more of Eva. More of her time. Today, no one could argue with her. 

Today was the anniversary of her parent’s imprisonment. Merula Snyde, desperately did not want to be alone today. She had spent too much time in the grips of loneliness. 

Blue eyes shift away then land back on hers. “You're not gonna like it”, no question there. 

It had been weeks ago, when they had laid next to each other and she had pictured if the sky fell in. “I rarely do with you. So, out with it”, annoyance in her tone. This was familiar, easy. Her eyes card through Eva's face, catching a small twitch at the corner of her lips. 

“Aren't you bossy”, Eva said offhandedly, still bouncing. “But, alright. If you must know, I'm going to see a friend of mine”.

“Then help me with these metric cups first”, Merula tells her, throwing half of the instruments to Eva that caught them and stared at them strangely. _What's all the dramatics for? We live with everyone she speaks to. _

Ready to begin to the short journey to their Common Room, Merula turns and begins walking. Eva joins her after a pause. “I am late”, she tells her. More wisp of sound, less airy statement. Merula chooses to pay it no mind regardless. Even as they walked up the stairs to the girls’ dorms and drop off all the instruments for Potions, that only people intent on passing Potions even own. 

“You're always late. They'll understand”, Merula declares, packing away the last of her vials._ Let's see which waste of space she was meeting now._

Eva is the first to walk out, Merula follows. 

They pass the steps down, and Peeves flies by circling around an older girl. The white-haired Slytherin makes no comment of him, so she decides that whoever it is at least it won’t be that evil spirit. 

There is a commotion by the wooden table where they usually do their homework. Near where the Head Boy and Girl make announcements. Merula turns to look, more people are gathering around there. Unlike her, Eva changes course, steps forward to whisper something in a Second Year's ear. The boy is unassuming but familiar, Merula does not know his name but she readily does not find that she cares to find out. Still, she is grounded to the floor, watching the exchange. 

Eva returns and tilts her head; this is the only indication to follow. Part of her wonders what is expecting them in this adventure. _What won't I like?_

Just as so, they leave the Common Room. “Who exactly are we meeting?”

“I was supposed to go alone”, a grin stretched across her face, taking off the sting of the words. Merula brushed them off, she had asked for more than was given today.

Now near the entrance, Merula shuddered at the thought of what unholy alley Eva was about to lead them to. “Why are we meeting this mystery person?”, Merula won’t admit to being slightly scared. 

They walk past the Infirmary, stopping at the storage closet. “Promise me that you won't get mad”, Eva told her, and Merula was thrown off. Positive that this’ll be bloody horrific from the sound of the softness in her voice. Wide eyes await a response, her whole body tilted forward in figure for catching hope.

“Open the bloody door”, she says instead. And Eva's shoulders drop, she sighs, “here goes...”

Inside, the room was small. As expected of a storage room. Though it looked like more of a broom cupboard at the side of a stairway, but only the slightest more room. High ceilings, with a single lantern that hung from the centre of the room and narrow streams of sunlight. Merula was looking around the room, there was junk everywhere. Scrolls, books, boxes with no doubt more junk, broken objects and glittering oddities. _Who knew what else had been left here?_

“D-did you r-really bring...”, a shrill voice disquieting the room. “She's here. W-why's she here? I-I don't...”

Merula turned to it. Eva had closed the door and was moving to stand between her and the ...boy?_ Oh, that boy. The Mudblood from Gryffindor. _

“Ben. Ben, look at me. You're alright”, Eva's voice this deceptively appeasing was enough to make Merula not react to the Mudblood. _This day is getting stranger by the second. Earlier I saw Lee open a textbook. It’s official, they’ve all gone mental._

“She-she won't hurt me?”, the boy asked, looking to Eva like a broken man searching to believe in anything saintly. _Did he always stutter? _His breathing began to calm, but the shallowness of it apparent. Merula looked on in horror. _What the fuck was that?_

Eva was beside him, but she didn't touch him just spoke in that same tone to him. And then he turns and just falls over. Eva is quick to catch him, “shite! I didn’t think… I should’ve…”, she muttered pulling him to the floorboards, and rushing to the junk in the shelves for something to place under his head.

Finding her voice, Merula chooses the most on-brand response, “what the bloody hell was that?” She’d never seen someone behave that way. The Mudblood was a lot of things but _really_, to faint like a daisy in the wind? _And all that he carried on with at first. It’s as if he was possessed or something. _Though to fall over simply at the sight of someone else? Pathetic. This took cowardice to another level. 

“I need your help”, Eva says, instead of answering. “He’s breathing but we need to get him to the Infirmary”, like some kind of professional, Eva checks his pulse as well and uses her wand to summon a Lumos to see if his eyes still dilate with its artificial light.

Merula tries not to put too much stock in that. “The _Infirmary_? Are you mental? We can’t do that”, she exclaims instead. Since obviously, Merula is the only one with common sense. Two Slytherins can’t drop off a Gryffindor knocked out cold. Worse after that fret episode he just had. They could be blamed for it. _She_ could be blamed for it.

Turning to look at her, Eva just asks, “what do you advise we do instead?” Her tone level despite the slight shake of her right hand. It takes a lot of will power for Merula to not look at it before talking.

“Drop him off in front of the Infirmary, or better yet, just leave him in the hallway. Someone is bound to find him. Do you have any idea what would happen to us if they find us with a passed-out Gryffindor? We might lose some points”, Merula reasoned. Felix would have their heads if they managed to already lose points, so early in the year.

“He had some kind of nervous fit. At the sight of you”, Eva says, face unreadable, but tone saying everything. The unspoken, _what did you do?_ Merula bites the inside of her lip as fear or panic, or something else familiar and horrible, coil up inside of her. Not really aware if she feared judgement from Rosier or if it was something deeper.

That was for later though. For when she was in the bowels of Sytherin, tucked away in his bed and far from any peering eyes. Only then would she take out these thoughts and question them. Right now, all she had was her snark and little else.

“Alright, alright! I’ll help you carry him out. You get his head; I’ll take the legs. I don’t want any of his grummy Mudblood drool to fall on my robes”, Merula quickly amends. There’s a pause in Eva as she looks to weigh something then nods tautly, picking up his head. Merula rushes to collect his feet and they heave him up.

“Bollocks! He’s bloody heavy”, Eva grunts out, “weighs a deadman”. They unsteadily carry him out of the storage room, Merula kicking the door shut on the way out.

Taking a breath and feeling her arms’ muscles tense at the unusual strain. “Well, genius, it was your idea to pick him up”, Merula spat out, with the last of her venom. The walk was off-balance and had her already flushed and dabbing some sweat from her forehead. Her short hair was finer as it stuck to her neck inside her robes. It all made her feel more overheated. _The things I do for this bloody twat…_

“Were we supposed to leave him there?”, Eva growls as she keeps missing the knob when blindly trying to open the door to the Infirmary.

Luck may have been it, but a ginger girl opens the door. Looking to the world as if she was mid-way out and notices them at once. “Oh, my! Is he alright?”

“He’s fine, but I’m about to not be. Take one side of the weight or point us to a bed”, Merula bites out, her arms feeling the burning licks of overexertion. The ginger girl nods hurriedly, and moves to help them carry him in. Between the three they make it to a bed nearby.

The exhale in relief as the Mudblood goes on the bed was purifying. Stretching her back, and twisting her shoulders to workout the tension, Merula misses the exchange between the ginger and Eva. Who had done this before and immediately moves to try to fetch this or that potion. Merula comes to notice her surroundings again, as Madame Pomfrey hovers over the Mudblood to perform some exam and sends off the ginger to do something else.

“Fine job, Rosier. It was a good call to get Geraldine. And perhaps… there is hope for you still”, giving Eva the warmest smile she had ever seen Poppy muster, Merula was positively freaked out. _Strange things after all…_

Was McGonagall going to jump out in a cabaret outfit with a fleet of dancers? Or worse, was Snape? What other unsightly surprises were ahead of her?

Admittedly, when Madam Pompfrey didn’t acknowledge her, it wasn’t so shocking. Everyone noticed Eva everywhere she went. Merula had been the type to have to make them see her. Either through working harder or making it impossible to ignore her. She could torment you to no end.

Only hearing the good side of things, as per usual, “is that a compliment I hear, Madam?”, Eva seemed to be back to playfulness. Catching Merula’s hand, she hollered, “always a pleasure, Poppy dearest”. They run out, without another word. Merula still catches the good-natured huffing of the Matron that was more put-upon. _Never thought I’d see that._

“Absolutely mental”, Merula muttered, wondering how anyone could speak to adults like that. Talking to a school authority like if they were old time friends. But Eva always did what she wanted_. I wish I knew how it was like to be you…,_ idly flies by her mind, as her hand clutches tighter. Eva is kind enough to not appear to have noticed.

_How can you be so cheerful after all that? _The worst part of Merula wonders if this is a façade, a mask she is putting on to hide something she’d rather not confront. But maybe that’s adding unnecessary layers to this airhead.

The skip in Eva’s step couldn’t be faked, as she swung their hands. The brief altercation between them was hopefully behind them now. They couldn’t possibly fall out over a petty Mudblood like that. _Could we?,_ an insecure voice asked somewhere in Merula’s head.

\-------

Gentle society had rules. Do’s and Don’t’s that were taught to all the inhabitants within it. At least, if your family expected you to prosper inside it. The purebloods of Magical United Kingdom were ruled by this.

To ever wish to rise in your station, without the starter pack of being raised within this society, required more than ambition. You needed to be able to be both an opportunist and respectable enough to admire or scorn, in silence. For years, the lines had been drawn. And the power was fractured amongst them.

It was by no accident that the seats of power were occupied by not the most qualified persons, at the moment, but the ones who knew how to move upwards by any means necessary. Greed is a wonderful motivator. So are favors. But for this gentle society to advance, a destabilization force such as a war needed victors and losers.

There was no good. Or bad. There was no light or dark. Just the ones who ended up winning, and what story they choose to tell. This, Ismelda knew well enough. After all, it was no surprise she had been sorted to Slytherin. Too many years watching her parents scrape and claw, sneer and simper.

All this made up the confrontation that occurred that afternoon in the Slytherin Common Room. This was the day that lines were drawn again.

“Your father lied to avoid conviction”, the boy snarled, voice laced with the bitterness of war. Mostly he was his father’s child, an empty copy of the man with cold blue eyes who wore an older face. “A coward. Just another fool willing to forgo all their beliefs for the sake of _freedom_,” he spat.

“As if anyone is free in this society”, his voice had all the rancour of pain, sorrow and rage all wrapped in the birdcage of this teenage boy. Words probably stolen from a father, a mother, a cousin. Someone more grown than him. Making him more empty, more copy.

Well sharpened after years of cruelty tucked beneath her tongue, all of the familiar bite coming out of her. “And yours now rots in prison cell", Ismelda replied, unabashed by this claim. “Tell me who is the fool? The man driven past sense for the sake of _what_? Loyalty? Ideology? A deluded dream? The sour realization of the outcome of this?”, her voice scathing, sounding more like Lale than she ever would've liked. _Don’t think about it. _

A pounding vine entwines into her breastbone and makes a home for itself near the atrium feeding her heart. Distantly, she calls it pride. “Or is the fool, the one who chose to save their name of a lost fight? To have sense. To choose the coming future, over the brittled past. You sit on you high-horse and judge my father, just to subdue the ache over how yours chose their fate without ever considering yours”, she had said more now than polite conversation usually allowed. But Ismelda was past polite now.

A crowd had formed around them, their words never escalated to shouts. These were two well-bred, fine young purebloods. They knew that a whisper hiss is much more brutal than a war cry, when packed with enough venom.

It was true, Ismelda did not love her family. Not her mother, with her constant perching of her appearance. Not her father, with his disappointment at her lack of social capabilities. Certainly not her cousins, nor aunts or uncles. And not her grandparents, who were just more bitter, scolding versions of her parents. But she was still a Murk. And what she felt or did not feel for her own blood was none of his concern. The implications of what a social pariah she'd've been had her father been sent to Azkaban along with all the others.

It was clear, who the losing side had been. And as a Murk, they would not fall for something as petty as wanting to hold onto the legacy a vanquished Dark Lord.

In public, this was suicide. Ismelda knew better. Had been raised better. She'd be expected to behave in a certain manner. Take a position. Supporters or not, with the war lost, the Murks would not hitch their flag on a sinking ship. 

This was a sensitive topic. Though it was apparent how the House was split. The dark looks on the ones standing nearest to Bird Blishwick, Third Year and face flushing under the truth of these words.

A forced laugh, rough and laced with the undercurrent of the possibility of a curse. Blishwick looks at her leveled, “is that what you tell yourself? Not that your father lied to save himself. That day, on trial. When both their lives were at stake. But ultimately it doesn’t matter. When mysterious circumstances belie a disappearance. You know, how he_ chose _his fate”.

Something in his tone makes Ismelda’s hairs rise, she allows herself the cowardice of looking around for one moment. A familiar face in the crowd beside her gives her pause. Lizard. She looked at her with worried eyes and a scrunched brow, as she stared between Ismelda and Blishwick.

“Must we rehash the past. Live in the shadows of her fathers forever? This’ll hang over us until we find common ground”, Ismelda tells him, voice strong and hiding her innermost thoughts. _They tortured those people._ No way to avoid that truth. Never would she find the courage to ask her father, but she was sure it had happened.

A manic burst of laughter erupting from Blishwick informs her of what she already knew inside, “common ground? There isn’t any ground left for us to stand in. D-Don’t you see? Life is a never-ending cycle. Round, and round, and round again. The carousel never stops turning. And you can sit there later, proud of your performance here today. Since that’s all that was. You don’t care how this hangs over those like me. The ones who’ve lost more than just a random cousin up the tree. I don’t expect you to understand. To grasp the reality of this. But round, and round it goes. This will always be about the shadows of those before us. They will always cover us in their shade. You’re a child to think otherwise. No one will prepare you for when you realize this. Like it or not, that man is a coward. And like it or not, if you don’t get off, the carousel will keep turning”.

A whip of his robes as Blishwick storms off, shouldering his way out of the crowd gathered around. People left watching him while some are left watching her. For all that Lale is worth, Ismelda tried to keep head held high. Refusing to feel afraid of the powder keg tied to her leg. The weight of stares.

It would’ve been nice to have Adger around. The peacock of a boy. Capable of turning all the heads to him. But instead of cowering, for once, Ismelda chooses to imitate the one she knows would stand her ground. Like Eva, she stares down the million eyes watching her.

The crowd dissipates and one tap on her shoulder has her grunting as she turns.

“Was that just politics?”, Lizard asks, notepad in hand gripped absently, and looking unsteady. After Ismelda blinks, and the silence reaches them, it occurs to her that this may have been her attempt at a joke.

“Yeah, Tuttle. Nothing but pureblood politics. And a boy who swears he knows everything”, she says, but the underlying hollowness she feels betrays her cool tone. Not that anyone but her would know.

What he said would follow her around for a long time. But that was none of his business.

\------

Ben knew something was up just as it happened. He noticed the shift in the room. How most of the girls stood up straighter, faces held in calm consideration. How the Slytherin boys had some grave air about them, like if someone would chastise them for breathing. Some of the Gryffindors had it too. It made him worry, and wonder.

He looked around and looked for a reason. At the other side of the room, next to Professor McGonagall, was a slim, lithe woman smiling politely at the room. She looked like something was about to happen.

The room began settling.

Eva chose that moment to walk in. Late as always. Ben had been standing next to the door and she came over. Something glittering in her eyes, he made note of how she stood next to him and not to Snyde. It had to mean something, right? Perhaps he’d helped uncover her to Eva.

Shivers running down his spine, Ben tries shaking them off only to brush shoulders with Thorin. This cold dripped down him, which made him question why he hadn’t put on his pullover today.

Normally, he would’ve expected Eva to move with all the same energy she had in Flying class. But instead of this, she came to stand, looked around and like a spell, left more distance between them, adjusted her posture like breathing in, and turned to look at the lady. Her head chanting slightly in acknowledgement, the other did so in return. McGonagall did not miss the exchange and smiled approvingly.

So okay, Ben was officially terrified. “Why is everyone acting so strange?”, he whispered, panicking. Not daring to raise his voice any more than necessary.

This made her turn to look slightly, “you don't know who she is?”, her body language still more contained than anything he had ever seen. No crooked grin, no arm thrown over his shoulder.

“Is she why everyone seems like Stepford Wives?”, knowing at least, she could provide a semblance of an answer.

Eva blinked. Not understanding what was undoubtedly a muggle reference. She'd have to ask about it later.

Her face had given away her confusion. The slight squinting of the eyes and pursing of her lips as she tried to understand what he’d said had become a giveaway to Ben. Afterall, they’d spent days talking about muggle contraptions and references. Wizards didn’t even have toaster strudels. “It's a movie", he provided.

_Oh_, she thought. _A moving picture. Film._ Thoughts all coming in quickly, before she came to another realization she hadn’t considered. “Your family isn't magical”, she says with an odd look, “so you have no idea...”

This was the first time she had ever brought this up. And maybe it was the chill he felt earlier but his eyes dart across the room to Merula. Stoic and refined, this was the closest he had ever seen her to looking like a genuine person. Not the personification of his nightmares and the face jeering in his mind, with her cartoon drawn eyebrows and sharpened teeth. For a moment, Merula looks like a girl to him. Deep purple eyes and unruly hair, but still just about any girl.

Then the eyes of his tormentor meet his and he can almost see the terror play out again before him. The times she threw little spells at him. To make his laces tie themselves, have his porridge explode in his face, shatter one of his measuring cups. Honestly, that was the lightest parts. The words are what marked him. Mudblood. She’d never call him by his name. It stung more than all the other insults she hurled.

Other Slytherins, some older than them, would join in sometimes. It scared him to think there could be someone worse than her out there.

“Alright, children. Gather around and present yourselves”, McGonagall said, and Ben felt his anxiety cripple up. _What does that mean?_ “We have a most special guest today”, McGonagall began. “As most know, the big “one-three” is coming up and we wanted to allow you the opportunity to meet a Dorée. Dispel some of the mystery they’re shrouded in, as one would say. We’d like for you to be provided equal opportunity to be at your best”. Their professor looked over them one last time, before nodding to hand the floor over to the woman.

“Why, yes. It appears you have been prepared by your families. Some of you, that is. But nevermind, you still have time to attain favour. The decision, after all, depends only on your core”, the lady spoke softly, not that you needed to shout in the ball room empty less of them. The contained breathing of the children themselves.

_What is she talking about__?_, Ben whispered to himself. Hoping that the world was kinder to cowards like him.

\-------

A group of older boys made their way to the table by the corner that the young Slytherins were using to study. It was Gudgeon, Titus, Barnaby, Taft, Eva and darling Tabitha all surrounding this table. Obviously, the project was not simple, and they had been split into two groups.

Their senior, Tabitha had offered to help them with Snape’s assignment. Much to the overjoyment of Eva who mauled her in a bear hug. That man had purposely put Eva in a different group as Merula. Which was his way of demonstrating how much he loathes her. And here she thought that they had finally reached a level of appeasement.

Snape didn’t even let Eva sit with Merula anymore. So, now she spent Potions shooting Merula these hopeless, kicked puppy looks. Wilting as the other didn’t even turn to see her once. _You’re my best friend_, she thought gloomily.

Now, they attempted to get all the research they needed to do in order to complete the project in time. But they were stopped as a hand pressed down the page Titus had been about to turn.

“Firsties, we have some questions to ask you”, the one who appeared to be there leader said. He was the lanky but held a respectable height for someone in Fourth Year. The red on their robes marked them Gryffindor, and the nearly growling Tabitha stared him down. “What makes you think we’d speak to you?”, she answers.

One of the ones behind the centre lad evens her a look, and it’s more about what Gudgeon sees. Barnaby and Eva square up, no doubt waiting for when to strike in case a fight breaks out. The staredown between Tabitha and their leader. Titus peeling the boy’s hand off his page as he continues to read regardless. And Taft sinking in his chair, looking over the scene in annoyance.

To the left, the tallest of the boy’s looks nervous. He must’ve noticed the tension. It was obvious how they’d probably win in a wand fight by experience alone, but the Slytherins had numbers on their side. And this look showing how unwilling to cooperate they were. “Emmerson, maybe we shouldn’t have done this”, he whispers into the leader’s ear. Gudgeon catches it anyways, the closest to them and always ears much too used to straining to hear muffled voices.

“I’m not doing this right now. We have to find out”, he whispers back, much more harshly. Not that it appears to calm the tallest of them any bit. The other Gryffindor, to the right, elbows the leader in the ribs making him crouch into himself.

Hands pressed on the table, he looks around, “if you know what’s good for you then you’ll tell us if you have it”.

Titus’s eyes rise, “it?”, he asks, raising his eyebrows. Eva’s head tilts.

“Somebody has something dangerous and we’re trying to find out who it is before they hurt someone. I want to believe that whoever’s been carrying the Emundans just doesn’t know any better. So, best bet, a Slytherin Firsty, too green to know just what they’re doing”, the leader responded, after recovering. Giving away more than he had intended to.

The face finally registers in Gudgeon’s head. _That’s the Gryffindor prefect._ This was so not sanctioned. They should’ve dealt directly with the Slytherin prefects or their Head of House if this was the case.

“An Emundans?”, Taft response, with a disbelieving face, “that’s a dark device. They were banned before the Wizarding War because of how dangerous they were. What would a bunch of kids have with something like that?” _When did you get so smart?_

Eva leans in, “someone is walking around with an Emundans and your immediate response is that it’s a Slytherin. Bit cliché, don’t you reckon?” Gudgeon isn’t fooled by the expression on her face. For once, neither are the boys.

“You heard her, we don’t have it”, Barnaby added.

So much excitement and Gudgeon wanted to just capture it all. “It’s not that we’re accusing you. You might have it and not even know”, the nervous one, calmer now, answered.

“Point is, somebody is walking around with a bloody purifier and we’re just trying to get it before something terrible happens”, Emmerson said, rubbing his temple. Looking like he was trying to not snap. This was the library after all. If Madam Pince heard half of this, she’d shush them to death. Or worse, take points.

“Real shame that we can’t help you with that”, Eva says smoothly.

Rolling his eyes, Emmerson just says, “if you see anything at all, just let us know. You’re just baby snakes so you haven’t gone bad yet. At least, I want to believe that”. _What a backhanded comment_, Gudgeon gasps in offense.

“You might want to check to see if your little lions aren’t the ones walking with a dark device, before you start casting judgement”, he told them. When the one to the right looked ready to get into it with Gudgeon, his friend grabbed his arm and nodded away.

“We’ll be in touch”, Emmerson said, before they headed out. The tallest chanted his head in acknowledgement. Eva and Titus did so as well. Gudgeon wondered why.

Once they were out of earshot, they each looked at each other. “That could’ve gone really wrong”, Tabitha breathed out.

“We’re in the library”, Taft added. “What were they going to do hex us in plain sight? They may be Gryffindors, but they can’t be such big dunderheads”.

“An actual dark device, in the castle. Can you imagine?”, Titus said, a shining in his eyes that Gudgeon chose to ignore.

“It could be lie. Some ploy of theirs. It wouldn’t be wise to take them for their word entirely”, Eva threw out, which was absolutely true. Nodding, Taft said, “she’s right. This could’ve been some prank of theirs. Who’d have an Emundans anyways? They haven’t seen those since the 1930s”.

Something may have struck Eva and Tabitha shoot up, the latter excuses them as she ran to catch up from the one who left in a hurry. The boys were left on the table.

Titus excused himself, citing that he had a meeting to get to. Not that anyone would question just what kind of meeting or where. It was Titus, he’d give you some bullshit excuse, in his way of saying, don’t question me.

Pulling Taft along, Gudgeon told them, “we gotta go do some fieldwork”.

“He means he wants to go gossip with the girls by the fountain”, Taft grumbled, even as Gudgeon just pulled him along. The exasperated groan was not necessary but Gudgeon needed another boy their so they couldn’t say they looked like clucking hens passing notes over gossip they just had to back.

\-------

Titus was not a fool. A lot of things could describe him but not that. Titus was quiet, a steady stream in a country of rapids.

A part of Titus wondered what would happen if he pushed Gudgeon further to Taft, what could happen? The lazy boy had been so obviously been cut up over something and the part of Titus that was clever enough to find that if Gudgeon went and intruded, then it might get resolved. Taft was so dedicated to not caring, sometimes it was a mask he wore.

Being as perceptive as he was, he had caught it. Eva was undoubtedly clever enough to have noticed too. Though she seemed following this little game of detectives the Gryffindors had started up. Truly he didn’t think she could resist a puzzle. If there was a purifier, then they’d know soon enough with that one hot on their trail.

Times like this he missed Jack. He would’ve managed to make everything about him, so Titus’s curiosity wouldn’t come creeping out. Since this made him wonder.

“You’re reading it wrong”, he said drily, face still focused on his book. The soft aromatics his mother had sent him for his rehabilitation helped with the aches, Titus inhaled through the nose for three beats. A charmed necklace that exuded the smells every few hours, tucking it inside his robes made him feel a bit more human than he felt after being sick for so long.

Barnaby looked up like a scattered mouse, despite being the elephant. “What do you mean?”, he asked, voice nearly shy. It wasn’t like the textbook was upside down, or in another language. Even though it felt like it.

The words shifted and moved off the page, Barnaby had wondered for years if all books were like that or he was just dunce.

Finally, Titus looks up momentarily, “I guess I could show you a trick”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emundans - loosely Latin for purifier.


End file.
